Cale au Aratar Light of the Valar
by Narcissa1
Summary: Millennia ago, the Valar made a promise to the First Born, one of them would be able to bring peace to all of them. Now this promise is about to be fulfilled, but an evil Istari and a thoughtless human could destroy it all...
1. Default Chapter

This story takes place after `the return of the king´, though it may contain some flashbacks. I will sometimes use my own form of elvish, meaning a mixture of Quenya and Sindar, simply for the reason, that for this story I need something, that is even older than Quenya, a language the elves used, before they left for Valinor with the Valar. Those who refused this journey, the Avari, continued to speack this language, while those who broke later with the main group, the Sindar, formed their language, the Sindarin. Those who followed the Valar to Valinor, the Vanyar and Noldor, changed their language and it became Quenya. Later on, as the Noldor were banned from Valinor, they came back and started to use Sindarin, like the other elves they met. The Avari had stayed east and had little to none contact with the Sindar or Noldor and died slowly out. The last group of Avari united with those elves, that lived farest in the east, the elves of Greenwood the Great, later called Mirkwood.  
  
Cále au Aratar – Light of the Valar  
  
„Then we will die as one of them, elf!"  
  
The words had been uttered weeks ago, but he still heard them, heard them as if Aragorn had just spoken them. He doubted that Aragorn even knew how much this words, spoken in anger and despair had hurt him – even more, as he had seen, that part of his friend hoped to die in that battle.  
  
But none of them had died that night, Aragorn and Gimli hadn't even received more that a few harmless scratches – and for than he was thankful: Arwen he knew, would not survive the death of her beloved Estel, and he had grown fond of the loud, charming dwarf.  
  
Yes, they would both live, and even if he was not sure, if he himself would survive the next days, it gave him satisfaction, that at least his mortal friends had survived this war. Everyday since the battle of Helms Clam he awoke with the wish, to see his family for one last time, before he entered Namos' halls, the poison, that flowed in his veins had already weakened him to the point, that his eyes closed while sleeping, showing, that his death was only a matter of time.  
  
Gimli was watching his Elven friend over his pipe, complentating the change of behaviour he had noticed since the argument he had had with Aragorn. Not only his behaviour had changed, but the whole way he held himself! While he had seemed before like his bow, tense but at the same time relaxed, at any time ready to be fired, to become a weapon, he now seemed to be somehow broken, as if the string was to long for the wood. Of course he still was as elegant and graceful as all the other elves Gimli had met in this last year, but something seemed to be missing.  
  
As he looked around he found, that Aragorn was also watching their Elven friend, a frown on his face. It was only three days till his coronation, and he still had not received news of his beloved Arwen -–and to add to his troubles, Legolas had started to act funny. As Gimli he was not able to tell, what exactly was different in Legolas' behaviour, he didn't even know, when Legolas had started to act so strange, for he first noticed it, when they were already for more than one week in Minas Thirth, but by the way Gimli watched their friend, it had to be longer.  
  
"Prince Legolas..."Eomers voice interrupted their thoughts and both were shocked to notice, that it took Legolas a moment to answer – an other thing that had changed, normally he would have reacted even before the last part was spoken – "I was wondering, why you refer to some of your rulers as kings, to others only as Lord and Lady"  
  
Legolas smiled slightly, as he noticed, that king Eomers question had captured the attention of all who were present: the remaining members of the fellowship – minus Gandalf, who had left for Lothlorien but would return in time for the coronation – Eowyn and Eomer, Faramir as well ass some nobles of Gondor, namely prince Imrahil, his youngest son and his daughter.  
  
"Because, even though they are the rulers of their lands, they are not their kings. Only Thranduil of Eryn Lasgalen is king over his people, the Sindar. Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel are just the rulers of the Golden wood in the absence of their king, as he will only be crowned in a few weeks.  
  
Lord Elrond of Imladris – or Rivendell – however, is entitled to call himself at least a Prince of the Noldor, for he would have been the heir of Gil-Galad, had he not forsaken his rights as his heir and left the crown to the descendants of Ereinions older sister Celebitiel as the Aratar had asked of him..."  
  
As he paused, lost in thoughts, Frodo questioned:  
  
"But why would the Valar ask him to leave the crown to another – he seemed to be a good Lord to Rivendell..."  
  
"Yes, that he is – and he would have also been a good High King... But the Aratar wanted not only a King of the Noldor, but of all Elves. One elf in whose veins flows the blood of all Elven races, the Noldor, the Vanyar, the Sindar and even the Avari... He was foretold to unite all elves and give them once again the choice between Valinor and Arda. Everyone who has his blessings will be able to enter the Elven home, no matter if elf, men, hobbit or dwarf. No one who was send by him could be turned away – not even Morgoth himself."  
  
Once again Legolas voice drifted away, leaving those around him to wonder what was happening with him, but suddenly a smile flickered over his face:  
  
"The `ilsa tirnoë´ have arrived..."  
  
"The Silver Guard?" Aragorn interrupted his friend "I believed them to be a myth..."  
  
"A myth? No, they are no more a myth then Hobbits or Ents!"  
  
he glanced over to Eomer, his eyes dancing with laughter,  
  
"But they are hiding something, I can not quite make out what, they are shielding themselves from me.."  
  
No sooner than his voice had faded, the doors opened, making way for a group of fifty hooded elves clad in shimmering dark silver cloaks. One by one they lined up along the walls of the room, till only two of them were left. As soon as Legolas' eyes fell on the smaller one he tried to stand up, only to grab hold of the arms of his chair, his eyes clouded over in pain before he regained control over his actions. The only sound in the room, was that of the splintering wood of the armrests of his chair.  
  
Aragorn, who had had once again taken watching his friend grew alarmed at the sight of the obvious pain he was in. Why had Legolas not told him, that he was in pain? Had he been wounded in one of the battles? He was sure, that Legolas had not been wounded on the fields of Pellenore, they had fought side by side – but the only other possibilities were Helms' Clam and during the siege of Minas Tirith, and both battles were weeks ago!  
  
Before the sound of breaking wood had vanished completely, the two elves that had stayed behind had crossed the room and knelt in front of Legolas, who had once again sunken on his chair. While the taller of the two reached inside his cloak, the smaller withdrew her hood, eliciting startled gasps from almost all present. Silver hair spilled around her face, falling back as one of Legolas' pale hands caressed her face shakingly.  
  
"Meldanya" he murmured, looking up from the kneeling elf before him, as he heard Aragorn gasp in shock at hearing this endearment. Seeing the astonishment on his friends face Legolas started to laugh.  
  
"Why so shocked, melon, didn't you expect to find someone more beautiful than Arwen, or is it the fact that I never told you."  
  
Controlling his irritation, Aragorn was relieved to hear his friend laugh:  
  
"More the fact, that I have known you almost my whole life – and yet you did not tell me, that you were married!"  
  
Aragorns relieve vanished within seconds, as he saw, that the hooded elf in front of his friend had handed him a vial with a clear red liquid, which Legolas drank without hesitation, the frown on the females face did nothing to ease his worry.  
  
Once again he saw pain flicker through the see blue eyes of his friend as he answered him, smiling, his voice filled with mirth, though underlining it was clearly to hear pain:  
  
"That might be, because we are not married yet – in eight weeks I might be able to tell you that the most beautiful of Erus creations has married me..."  
  
the gruff voice of Gimli interrupted him:  
  
"No offence my Lady, but lad, you must agree with me, that no one can surpass the beauty of Lady Galadriel, no matter how beautiful your lass is! I mean..."  
  
he stopped abruptly, as dark blue eyes turned to him, watching him smiling.  
  
"You must be Master Gimli... Naneth has spoken often of the dwarf who has become an Elven-friend.  
  
I am glad to see, that Legolas has finally made peace with a dwarf."  
  
"Had Aule not seen it fit to take that oath of me, I would have never had any problems with dwarfs, Althilwen. It is my father who..."  
  
a violent cough interrupted his words, his face contoured into a mask of pain, as he frantically tried to draw breath. While easing the still coughing prince out of the chair, the hood slipped from the elf, kneeling beside him, and Aragorn recognised the older of his twin-foster-brothers.  
  
"Elladan? What is happening to Legolas" he asked, while he hurried over to his friends side, followed closely by Gimli.  
  
"Not now, Aragorn!" came the terse reply, "All will be explained later!" with a wave of his hand, an other elf was by his side and together they helped the trembling prince to his feet and guided him out of the room, followed by all but three of the Silver guard.  
  
As Aragorn made to follow his foster brother and his friend, one of the elves hold him back:  
  
"You can do nothing for him at the moment – Elladan and Luimîr will do all that is possible" he spoke while he drew back his hood.  
  
"Haldir? Rumil, Orophin? What is the meaning of this? Explain!"  
  
Tension filled the room, as all its inhabitants waited for one of the elves to answer. After minutes of silence, the elf, whom Aragorn had identified as Orophin, answered:  
  
"Years ago Morgoth created a poison, more terrible than the Black-poison, for the sole purpose of torturing elves. While it would have brought instant death to mortals, it brought endless, unimaginable pain to immortals, leaving them on the brink of conscious before slowly killing them.  
  
It was this poison that he used to turn elves into the sires of Orcs. Under his or his Heralds, Saurons, influence their spirits would break after months, years of torture – if they survived the poison long enough.  
  
We believed, the recipe for this poison forgotten, as Sauron did not use it during his reign of terror and darkness – what we did not know, was that someone else knew how to brew it and would dare to betray us in this way."  
  
The shaky voice of Frodo voiced their collective fear:  
  
"Saruman..."  
  
"Yes, it was Saruman, the white Istari," continued Haldir, as his brothers stayed silent, "he brewed this most terrible poison and sent his minions to poison Legolas, hoping to gain him as an ally and destroying thereby arda. 


	2. this wound wont seem to heal

Cale au Aratar 2  
  
"If it weren't for the oath he gave you master Frodo and his love for Lady Althilwen, he would have already faded."  
  
Guessing, what question would be the first to be asked, Haldir continued,  
  
"Neither do we know, nor is it our place to guess, why Legolas said nothing of his wound.  
  
"But we will hunt down the traitor, till he will wish, that he had never set food on arda!"  
  
as the last part had been hissed in Sindarin, only Aragorn, had fully understood, what Haldir had said, though Imrahil and Faramir, seemed to have been able to guess the meaning of the words.  
  
Silence reigned in the room, till Rumil turned to Aragorn and Faramir:  
  
"Elessar, Steward, we have to discuss the preparation of the coronation – the three weeks will be over all to soon, and everything has to be ready!"  
  
After a questioning glance to Aragorn, his future king, Faramir answered:  
  
"The coronation? It will be in three DAYS and everything s ready – though I wonder, what elves would have to do with its preparations..."  
  
The clear laughter of the three elves filled the room, cleansing it of the tension, that had entered with their entrance.  
  
"But it is not Elessars coronation we came to prepare! In three weeks time our prince Lúin-Nor will be crowned here in the White city, as has been agreed with Isildur."  
  
"I have never before heard of this prince Lúin-Nor. Is he the heir Gil- Galads, Legolas spoke about?"  
  
Prince Imrahil ventured, interested not only as a prince of Gondor, but also because of his elvish ancestors.  
  
"Lúin Nor is indeed the heir of Gil-Galad and we have waited for millennia's, that he could claim his crown – since the day, Isildur claimed the one ring.  
  
It is our responsibility as the ilsa tirnoë to prepare his coronation, within the next weeks, elves from all realms will arrive in Minas Tirith to swear allegiance to our king – as will you Elessar as the king of Gondor."  
  
This announcement was not taken kindly, as the angry murmur of the Gondorians showed. It was unheard, that a king was forced into swearing his allegiance to an other king, if he had not lost a war against him; and now in times of peace the king of Gondor should be forced to swear allegiance to an unknown elven king.  
  
Only Aragorn himself was not taking part in this angry murmurs but watched the three Marchwardens of Lothlorien silently before he addressed them:  
  
"I would have sworn my allegiance freely if he had asked for it – so why is it dictated upon me, who was raised by elves?" the annoyed undertone was not missed by anyone in the room.  
  
"When Isildur agreed to take this oath, that binds everyone of his descendants to the house of Lúin-Nor, he had just betrayed him. Isildur is the reason, the Prince would not take his rightful place. As long as the one ring was not destroyed his very existence had to be kept a secret to insure the safety of our race.  
  
To insure this would never happen again it was decided, that the house Isildurs would have to be bound to the house of Lúin-Nor.  
  
The Prince does not wish to take this oath, but he has to, to insure the safety of his descendants."  
  
Isildur! Silently Aragorn cursed his ancestor. He had brought so much pain to Middle Earth with his decision to keep the one ring as an heirloom for his family. Even now, when the ring was destroyed, did the curse he had brought over the house of Numenor live on. But he would worry about the Elven Prince on a later point of time, when he was sure, that Legolas would survive.  
  
Neither Haldir, nor his brothers Rumil and Orophin had said, that Legolas would survive the poisoned wound, which stated clearly, that they did not expect him to live.  
  
How could he have been so ignorant he asked himself, he had been constantly in Legolas presence, and yet he had not noticed, that his friend was mortally wounded – what kind of friend did that make him, what kind of king?  
  
He still remembered, when he had first met the prince of Eryn Lasgalen, he had been still a small child of only five years and had been utterly fascinated with Legolas long soft golden hair. So fascinated indeed, that Legolas had taken one of his knives and cut a strand of hair off, so that Aragorn could play with it as he left Imladris for his home.  
  
And now Legolas was dying right in front of him, and he had not noticed. His best friend was fading in his very presence and all he thought about, was if he would be a good king!  
  
When had been the last time, he had really talked to Legolas, had asked for his opinion or had listened to his worries?  
  
It did not matter any more, he had wasted already enough time, he would find a way to help Legolas, and if was only to make his last days as happy as possible!  
  
*~*  
  
The potion Elladan had given him, did nothing to lessen his pain, but that would only happen, if the poison had left his body.  
  
He felt his mind drifting to places of his past, to days, when he had been happy. No, he corrected himself, he was happy – even when every fibre of his body screamed in agony. Peace had once again come to Arda, Aragorn had claimed his birthright and he, he was surrounded by his closest family.  
  
A new coughing-fit brought his memories back to that fateful night at Helms' Deep.  
  
*  
  
"Then we will die as one of them, elf!"  
  
This one sentence had seemed to rip his heart out of his breast and break it, he doubted, that either Aragorn or Gimli had seen the anguish that must have shown in his eyes at these words. It was in that moment, that his fate in Estel wavered: not only had the man given up the hope in their friendship and their ability to win that fight, but he had also given up on surviving that night. He was ready to condemn Arwen to one of the most painful deaths imaginable – just because he feared, that he would make the same mistakes Isildur had made.  
  
Later, as he had apologised to Aragorn he had not done it because his behaviour deserved an apology, but because Aragorn needed the hope; ironic, that Aragorn, who had been named Estel – hope, by Elrond his foster father, was the first of them who lost it. Or was it rather, that he gave all hope away and had nothing left for himself? It was unlikely that he would ever know.  
  
He had been so relieved, when the army, that Elrond had promised finally came. Aragorn had shown them hope, but the elven army ensured, that they believed they could win the battle, the war – almost all of them had given their life in that battle, out of two hundred only sixty-four survived.  
  
It was only when Aragorn called to him, to kill the torch-carrier, that he was wounded. His ability, to concentrate completely on one goal, gift and curse at the same time, had allowed him to shoot him – and to be wounded doing so.  
  
The arrow had pierced his right side, staying stuck; he had to push it all the way through and break the shaft to be able to remain fighting.  
  
At once had he known, that the arrow had been poisoned – and which poison it was, having experienced Black poison on more than one occasion. Sending a prayer to the Valar, that he would find the strength to ignore the pain in order to keep going, he had strapped his belt higher to reduce the blood loss and had remained fighting.  
  
No one but the other elves noticed, that his cloths were not only stained black with the blood of the slayed Uruk Hais, but also with the silver red of his elven blood. The amount of silver in it, indicating, that it was a life-threatening wound.  
  
They had remained silent.  
  
* A new wave of pain rushed through him and only Althilwens presence allowed him to remain silent and not scream in agony.  
  
Three days he reminded himself, he had nearly three days till Aragorns coronation and he would be present! 


	3. a leaf caught by the wind

Silently Elladan and Elrohir, the twin sons of Lord Elrond left the bed- chamber of their friend Legolas. Once outside, it was Elrohir, who broke the silence, the worry he felt clearly visible on his fair features :  
  
**"Will he survive brother?"  
  
For moments Elladan looked silent at his twin, his eyes lost in thought, before he answered, a sad smile playing around his lips:  
  
"I don't know, Elrohir. It seems to me, as if 'twas not the poison, that is taking his life but something or someone else."  
  
His voice faded, as he watched a leaf that was twirled around by a gust of wind, as it was carried high into the air – before it fell lifeless to the ground. The sun of the late afternoon played over it, mocked it with her show of warmth, of life.  
  
Slowly his eyes focused once again on his brother:  
  
"Whatever has happened, since we last saw Legolas in Imladris has changed him, broken him. I do not know him anymore."  
  
Taking a deep breath he continued, his eyes once again trained on something outside the window  
  
"His heart his breaking, even if he survives the poison and even his breaking heart, he will be dead.  
  
'Tis as if he lost all the purpose in his life, as if someone had taken everything that is Legolas out of him and left to us only a prince, someone who lives not only for his duty, but is nothing more than his duty...  
  
Have you seen his eyes, Elrohir, have you seen his eyes?...  
  
They frighten me! They were so empty – and still so full of love, as if his love to us was all that is keeping him here...  
  
His eyes, have you seen them, toron, have you seen them?  
  
They were just like nanas... Just like her eyes after we had brought her back..."  
  
Shocked Elrohir stared at his near hysterical brother, only once had he seen his normally composed twin in an equally distressed state: during the time their naneth had been captured by orcs and after they had freed her – only to lose her to Valinor, because she could not bear it any longer to stay in Arda.  
  
Only slowly the words his brother had spoken registered in his mind, as he silently tried to give his brother support, both physically and also through the bond they shared as twins.  
  
Would they lose Legolas, like they had lost their mother, through a cruel twist of fate, not through the poison, that crept through his veins, but to the unknown pain that tore on his heart?  
  
They had not been able to save their mother, but in that moment, as they watched together as the wind once again picked up the leaf that he had mere minutes before discarded, they were gifted with a rare moment of complete clearness, seeing each others thoughts, as if they were their own.  
  
Legolas, would not suffer the same fate as their naneth, they would not allow his heart to break – and if they had to empty the halls of Mandos to accomplish that feat.  
  
Sharing a small nod, they continued to watch the leaf for a moment, before they turned and made their way to the room where they had left the three Lorien brothers to start the preparations for the coronation.  
  
Before they lost sight of the twirling leaf, Elladan looked back, and saw, as if for the first time, that it was a green-leaf, that had been once again picked up, after it had fallen to the ground.  
  
A small smile gracing his lips he thought to himself, that maybe this was a sign from the Valar or even Eru himself, that their Greenleaf, would also be able to be brought back to life.  
  
~*~  
  
Surprisingly it was the dwarf who first noticed their entrance besides the three Lorien brothers. Foregoing all manners he gruffly called out to them, showing unconsciously his deep concern for his friend:  
  
"How is the lad? He has not been himself for quiet a while now..."  
  
as an afterthought he added  
  
"It won't do, if it was pointy-ears who died, especially now that the war is over!"  
  
Haldir, and Orophin had to do all to control themselves at this veiled insult of their race, and only the pointed glare from their brother Rumil calmed them enough to watch the twin sons of Lord Elrond.  
  
"You say, that he was not himself for quiet a while now, master dwarf..., what have you noticed about him, that has changed?"  
  
One of the identical looking elves asked, Gimli was not sure, if it was the one Aragorn had called Elladan. Playing with his pipe, he allowed his eyes to travel over his companions, lingering a moment longer on Aragorn and Pippin before settling finally on the one who had asked him the question.  
  
"Now, Master elf, the lad has become much quieter in the last weeks, didn't even try to insult us dwarfs anymore... He was still good at fighting, for an elf mind you, but he didn't have his heart on it anymore... Lost it in Helms Deep...and Isengard...  
  
I hope, his lass can bring him back from wherever his mind went... it would be a shame to loose such a good lad..."  
  
And so quiet, that even Aragorn, who had grown up in the company of elves could not discern his words he mumbled, astonishing the elves:  
  
"...and such a wonderful friend..."  
  
Elladan and Elrohir shared a look, that clearly meant, that they would seek the dwarf later to hear, what he had not told them so far. It was the interested glance of Lady Eowyn, that made them realise for the first time, that them still carried their weapons. Being so accustomed to them, they had not thought of setting them down, now that they were not required to be in full arms.  
  
With a few swift movements, all five of them rid themselfs of their more obvious weapons. The weapon, that had caught the interest of the Shield Maiden of Rohan, was rather unusual, even for Elven standards: it seemed to be a sword, but the handle was not on one side of the weapon, but in the middle of two slightly curved blades; the whole weapon, matched in length nearly the high of its bearer.  
  
In each of the handles was a different symbol carved, making each of them as unique as the bows and quivers, that the elves set aside. Under their silver cloaks visible all of them were wearing long Elven swords, leaving those watching to wonder, how much more weapons they were carrying unnoticed.  
  
Eowyn briefly smiled at the thought, that they would have had a hard time to enter the hall of Meduseld, as Wormtongue still held it. However her smile quickly made place to a look of fury and sadness, as she taught of her deceased uncle, and how much good this elves could have done, if they had ever visited Meduseld.  
  
No, she chastised herself, don't think about it, without the help of elves we all would have fallen at Helms deep, they gave their live for us – and even if they had come to Meduseld, what could they have achieved, when it was Saruman, who held my Uncle under his ban. Coming to this conclusion, she once again listened to those around her.  
  
"... so this is the reason, why I was always denied, to learn to wield a Double-blade! Wouldn't it have been easier just to tell me, why I was denied my wish?"  
  
Aragorn questioned one of the twins, who merely smiled at him. It was the other one, wo answered him, his laughter apparent in his voice:  
  
"Oh, but Estel, were would have been the fun in that? It was much more enjoyable, not to forget much more annoying, to have you ask everytime you saw us practicing!"  
  
much more solemn he continued:  
  
"We could not tell you, for that would have mend to reveal, that we are part of the ilsa tirnoë... something, that had to be kept secret as much as the identity of Lúin-Nor.  
  
As much as we wanted to tell you, titta toron, we all had taken an oath, to keep his – and our – identity a secret and defend it with our life, till the One Ring was destroyed or he declared, that the time was right."  
  
Aragorn had smiled briefly at the endearment Elrohir bestowed on him – little brother, it had been a long time, since one of them had used it. But he could not help to wonder, who it was, that was held in such high confidence by his brother. Instead of asking the question, he knew would not be answered he asked something else:  
  
"So is Legolas also one of the ilsa tirnoë?"  
  
No one had expected, the drastic change of atmosphere this question elicited, however the answer was prevented, as the door opened, and one of the ilsa tirnoë entered and whispered something to the five elves, who turned as one to Gimli.  
  
"Master dwarf, do you consider Prince Legolas as a friend?"  
  
Startled at this question, Gimli started nearly to choke on his pipe:  
  
"Yes, I would consider the pointy... I mean Prince Legolas as my friend..."  
  
before he continued Elrohir had stood up and gathering his weapons he turned to Gimli:  
  
"Than follow me Master dwarf, it is time, for the oath he gave Aule to loose its meaning..." 


	4. Not only a dwarf but a friend

Cale au Aratar 4  
  
In silence Elrohir and Gimli made their way to the room Legolas stayed in, Elrohir having no desire to speak to the dwarf of things that would undoubtedly be repeated later on when they were joined by his brother and Gimli being intimidated by the tall silent warrior – though he would die before admitting it.  
  
Gimli was reaching for the handle of the door, as he felt a slender hand on his left shoulder, his first instinct was to shrug it of but then he remembered, that this elf was a friend of Legolas and that he therefor should at least attempt to be polite. So instead of being offended he looked calmly up to the elf, registering for the first time how much like Lord Elrond he looked – they must be his sons he realised. With this realisation his feelings to the elf next to him softened considerately: wasn't Lord Elrond married to one of Lady Galadriels daughters?  
  
"Master dwarf, I must warn you before we enter...we do not know if the Prince will survive, but we will do everything to save his body and his spirit. What we will tell you today, what I will tell you now, can never be retold, not to Estel – Aragorn – or anyone else!"  
  
Seeing Gimli nod in agreement he continued in a softer tone:  
  
"All of us who have come today have sworn their life to Legolas, our prince. We will do everything for him, even if it would mean to kill ourselves or our kin. He is our prince, our king!"  
  
At this words Gimlis eyes widened #he is our prince, our king # could this elf mean, that Legolas was the Elven prince they had talked about.  
  
Ignoring Gimlis inquisitive stare Elrohir continued  
  
„Years ago, when he was still a child, even in the reckoning of men, Legolas gave Aule an oath, only he knows what exactly it contains, but from that time on he became interested in the matters of your people. Even though his father tried to discourage him many times he stood up for them.  
  
A rumour said, that Aule taught him your tongue – today that rumour was proved fact. Whatever you do in there do not upset him! The potion my brother gave Legolas is not able to neutralise the poison in his body – only drive it away. He will be in even more pain than he was before but it is his only chance to survive.  
  
We decided to bring you to him because he called out in Kuzdul – be there for him but remember that at the moment everything is able to kill him – and with him the whole race of the firstborn would fade."  
  
Grey eyes never left Gimlis face as Elrohir spoke to him. Any other time Gimli would have been unnerved by these eyes but at the moment he couldn't care less.  
  
"I would do NOTHING to harm the lad in any way, master elf! Now let me to him so that we can insure that he will get up in the near future!"  
  
Amusement and relief flickered over the elves features at the dwarfs gruff words; taking his hand from his shoulder he opened the door indicating the dwarf to enter.  
  
He had purposely held their conversation in front of the door, insuring that everyone inside would be able to hear him, half hoping half fearing, that Legolas was still well enough to be capable of Elven hearing. Though one look inside told him, that Legolas had not been able to hear them, confirming Elladans suspicions that Legolas was not only suffering from the poison.  
  
Legolas lay stretched out on the bed, only the slight rising and falling of his chest indicating that he had not yet faded. At his side sat the Lady – Althilwen – Gimli reminded himself, who had cast her cloak aside and was now only dressed in a simple yet elegant pale blue dress, her hands holding one of Legolas.  
  
The silver guard had positioned themselves along the walls, only one of them was at the side of the dying – no, not dying, just sick – elf. As soon as Gimli had fully entered the room the elf stood up gesturing to him to take his place.  
  
All of the sudden Legolas began to talk and it took Gimli a moment to realise, that Legolas was speaking in Kuzdul, so unused was he to hear his hard tongue spoken with the soft voice of an elf.  
  
#Whatever happens, Gimli, promise you me you will keep Althilwen alive! She shall not have to suffer because of me.#  
  
With his last words Legolas had opened his eyes and turned his head to Gimli. It was the first time, that Legolas had directed his gaze completely at the dwarf thus startling him with the intensity of his gaze. Had he thought the other elves grey eyes unnerving he would have recoiled from Legolas glance had he not considered the elf as his friend.  
  
Meeting the elves eyes he answered without hesitation  
  
#I will promise you that I will keep her safe – even though you will be there to ensure it yourself!  
  
Now why in Aules name can you speak Kuzdul? I have never heard of a pointy eared who was able to speak the language of the dwarfs!#  
  
Legolas laughed at the indignant tone the dwarf used, easing some of the tension the other occupants of the room felt. Softly squeezing the hand of his beloved his eyes never left Gimlis.  
  
#Oh, that would be because I'm the only elf cursed with the torture of being able to understand dwarfs – and even speak in their tongue!#  
  
He mocked his friend, his eyes showing besides the well concealed pain amusement.  
  
#Don't dare to insult the mighty tongue of the dwarfs, elf!#  
  
Gimli snapped good naturedly at his friend, noticing only after he had spoken, that at his tone the guards in the room had visibly tensed. Legolas too had noticed this and calmed them, switching to common as he informed them with a wink at Gimli, that the dwarf had demanded to be taught the language of the elves now that an elf was able to speak the language of the dwarfs.  
  
"I did no such thing you flighty elf!"  
  
Gimli huffed not really offended by Legolas "translation", but regretted the words almost as soon as they had left his mouth. He had just insulted THE Elven prince in the presence of his guard and while he knew that Legolas enjoyed their banter as much as he did, he could not be sure that counted also for the other elves.  
  
But before any of them could react to the direct insult Legolas laughter stopped any act of revenge on the dwarf.  
  
"You did not?" he managed to say through it, trying futively to hide his coughing as he laughed, "So you wish not for us to be even? – or do you think yourself unable to learn our language?"  
  
The guard stared in amazement at their friend and prince: while they knew of his playful side of his delight in teasing others they had not expected him to act this way towards a dwarf. Sure, he had always been friendly to Aules children, but this was a side of him that he only showed his family and his closest friends. To strangers he had always been polite and aloof.  
  
The sun was already setting as Gimli finally left the rooms of Legolas, only realising as the door had already closed behind him, that he still did not know what oath his friend had given the Valar. 


	5. Luin Nor

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_**Cale au Aratar**_

  
  
A wave of panic swept over him as he awoke, he wasn't able to see and everything around him was dark. For a few brief moments he asked himself if he had already died, before his other senses awoke and told his mind, that he was in pain – and therefor still alive. Only then did he remember that he no longer slept with his eyes open as was the way of the elves – the healthy elves he corrected himself, but had his eyes closed.  
  
As he lay in his bed, his eyes still closed as he feared the pain that opening them would undoubtedly bring he contemplated his life. Even for an elf or an Elven prince his life had been unusual. For the first decade of his life he had just been the prince of Eryn Lasgalen, first and only child of crown prince Thranduil and princess Silruinel; then when he had turned twelve he had had a first vision of the Aratar, telling him that he would be the High King of ALL Elves. Only weeks later he had been visited by Aule and gave him that oath in a moment of childish curiosity. At that time he had not known what it would take to keep that oath – he had cursed himself many times in later years for giving it – but now he knew, that it had been one of the wisest decisions of his life.  
  
The friendship with Gimli was worth all the quarrels he had had with his father over his behaviour towards dwarfs. It was almost comical, that his father had a liking to jewels that rivalled that of a dwarf but disliked them more then any other elf he knew. Hopefully Gimli would change that.  
  
His thoughts drifted from Gimli to Aragorn and he inwardly frowned as he reflected on his friends behaviour. He had seen the Rings influence on the heir of Isildur: it did not make him desire the Ring but doubt himself. Just as Boromir tried to claim the One to help defend and rebuilt Gondor and lost himself in the process, Aragorn lost all hope and his will to life. Only in Helm's Clam and later at the path of the dead did he regain his confidence, his will to fight.  
  
But even now that Aragorn had regained his confidence he was not able to forgive him: his friend had been so lost in his own misery, that he had completely forgotten about Arwen. No, that was not right, he had not forgotten about Arwen Legolas mused, he had just taken the easy way out, telling himself, that it was enough to denounce his bond with Arwen before he had left and being therefor free to loose himself to death.  
  
Unbeknownst to both Aragorn and Arwen he had been in the gardens that evening before they had left Imladris. He had heard as Aragorn tried to persuade Arwen to leave for Valinor – did Aragorn not know, that Arwen would die even if she travelled to the Undying Lands? That she would have faded even sooner because she was separated from him, her one true love?  
  
How could his friend be so ignorant, he had been raised by elves and yet he was able to act as if he knew nothing of the first born.  
  
True, he himself also went on this quest, but he had known that he was the only one who was able to fill that place, the only one of the elves who would be able to resist the One long enough to have a chance to come back. Althilwen had also known this, they both had known the chance of that happening since the day Isildur claimed the Ring.  
  
Nearly wincing in pain Legolas opened his eyes and turned his head to his side, where he knew Althilwen was watching over him. Her blue eyes were glazed over, indicating that she was asleep, but even in sleep they were shown in brilliance. While Celebrian had come after her father Celeborn, Althilwen was almost the spitting image of her mother. She had the same eyes, the same nose, the same mouth... but she had the silver hair of her father and older sister.  
  
A smile formed on his tired face as he remembered when they had first met: she had still been a child, at least in the eyes of the elves, not even fifty , while he had already been a fully trained warrior. His first taught when he saw her had been that he had was looking at the only girl that would bring him happiness. At that time he had not known, that she was the daughter of the Lady of the Light, the bearer of Vilya, he had just known that she was the most beautiful elleth he had ever seen.  
  
That evening they had been officially introduced and it took only a few moments before it was clear for everyone present that one day the two of them would marry. Now more then three thousand years later they would finally be bound to each other – if he was able to fight the poison that cursed through his body.Luimîr stood already next to him before he noticed him, a new wave of panic rushed over him at this, as he normally would haven been able to hear a falling leave on the other side of the castle.  
  
"_My king, how are you_?"  
  
Luimîr must have also noticed his inattentiveness as it was seldom that his uncle called him his king.  
  
"_You would not believe me, if I told you that I'm fine, would you, uncle?"_  
  
The older elf smiled slightly at his nephews question, true, Legolas looked like Thranduil, but other than that he was completely like his older sister Silruinel. He had the same sense of humour, the same fiery temper...  
  
While his sister had the red hair to mach her temper, Legolas her son looked almost innocent with his golden hair and brilliant blue eyes. But once he got angry his face lost all his innocence, putting even his fathers tantrums to shame. Luin Nor, Blue Fire, the name was well earned: once angry the elves eyes darkened in colour, gaining an almost violet shade and looked as if a fire had been lit behind them.  
  
Gil-Galad had been the one who had given his successor his name after he had learned first hand why it was better to never anger the heir of Thranduil and Silruinel. For everyone but Gil-Galad and Legolas it had been an amusing occasion, Gil-Galad was not able to see anything remotely funny as he had been the one who had been wounded in body and pride by a mere child and Legolas was to annoyed to see anything amusing.  
  
Gil-Galad had travelled with his court to Eryn Lasgalen to meet the elf who should become his heir and was resting within the borders of Orophers realm near the outskirts of the wood, when a small elfling had picked up his bow. Believing to be confronted with an elleth Gil-Galad had made a remark, that the bow was much to big and heavy for such a small girl when her face had turned a remarkable shade of red and she had fired an arrow at him. Everyone was shocked, when the arrow found his mark in the left shoulder of the king.  
  
The child had only remarked, that that should teach the arrogant elf a lesson and if he didn't want an arrow in his heart he should think before speaking and had disappeared into the treas.  
  
It was a shocked group of Noldor that entered the palace of Eryn Lasgalen two days later. When they had asked king Oropher who the small girl had been he had looked at them questioningly and had not been able to answer. Only when they went later to the archery grounds to meet the Prince Legolas for whom they had come did they notice their mistake.  
  
Needless to say that it had taken years before a friendship had formed between Legolas and Gil-Galad.  
  
It pained him to see Legolas in such a state, so helpless and on the brink of dying. He was not sure, if Thranduil would survive his son long enough to name an heir if Legolas would really pass away. All that had held the king of Eryn Lasgalen after the death of his wife and daughter had been his son: even though his heart had started to break he had been able to pull himself together and survive to be a father for his only child and a king for Eryn Lasgalen, as only months ago his own father Oropher had fallen at the slopes of Mount Doom.  
  
Many thought Thranduil heartless but he was just no longer able to express himself as freely as he had been able to before his heart had started to break. As he was now looking at Legolas he saw the same look of helpless heartbreak he had seen in the eyes of his brother in law and he could only hope, that there was still a way to reverse it, to mend the wounds that had been cut into his nephews heart.Please review! 


	6. What have I done

Cale au Aratar 6  
  
Aragorn was – he was not even sure what best described the frame of mind he was in – angry? Weary? Confused? Tired? Frustrated? Yes frustrated, frustrated with himself, with Arwen for still not being in Minas Tirith, with his foster brothers for not understanding his troubles, with Legolas for being ill... definitely with Legolas!  
  
He was NEVER ill, ok there had been the odd time he had been wounded but it had never been serious enough to keep him in bed for more then a few days and he had never slept with closed eyes. Damn that elf for becoming ill now that he would be crowned, would finally be the king of Gondor – and Arwen was still not there.  
  
Damn Elrohir for blowing up at him like he had done earlier that day, he had just asked him where Arwen was and if she would come to his coronation. For a few seconds Elrohir had looked at him incredulously before he had literally blown his top. He had never seen Elrohir so enraged or murderous. It had taken his foster-brother further moments before he had been able to speak and then he had only hissed at him, that his best friend was dying and all he could think of was his stupid coronation. Without a further word Elrohir had turned around and stalked off.  
  
It was not that he was not worried for Legolas on the contrary the elf was his best and oldest friend, almost a brother to him – but why had he had to fall ill so close to one of the most important events in his own life? He had never before heard of that poison that ailed his friend – surely it could not be as bad as Elrohir made it out to be if Legolas had been able to conceal the fact that he was wounded for so long! A small nagging voice told him, that Gimli had known for a long time that something was wrong with their Elven friend and that he had been the only one ignorant.  
  
Why now? Why had Legolas to fall ill now? He needed his best friend in these days, he needed Legolas to talk to, to confine in. He wanted to spar with Legolas till he was to worn out to think of anything then going to sleep as they had often done when he had been frustrated with his destiny.  
  
He needed Legolas, he depended on him – didn't Legolas realise that? Didn't he realise that he could not go through with his own coronation without his friend?  
  
Aragorn looked around his room, searching for something to throw; he knew that he was behaving like a spoiled child but he couldn't help it, he wanted Legolas to be at his side like he always was when something troubled him.  
  
With a sight he sank back on the chair, it was of no use, Legolas was not here – or at least in no condition to be there for him. A beam of light fell on the wall to his right drawing a pattern on it. As a child he had guessed the shapes the light or shadows would draw on the wall – he had played it often with Legolas. A fond smile formed on his face: during the first visit of Legolas that he remembered he had often stolen into the elf's room in the evening or night when he had been unable to sleep.  
  
While a stranger the elf had fascinated him – especially his golden hair – till that day he had only known the elves of Imladris, Legolas was the first elf from an other realm he met, the first one who was a stranger. Ever the curious child he had, when he had for the first time crept into the strange elf's chamber stared at him for a long time before he had reached with a small tentative hand out to touch that fascinating hair.  
  
Indeed he had been so absorbed with the soft hair of the elf that he did not notice that the eyes of his victim had sharpened even before he had touched him – as Legolas told him years later the elf had awoken the moment he had entered his room. So it was that he jumped back with a yelp when he found those blue eyes focused on him while he was still playing with his hair.  
  
Only the quick reflexes of the elf had prevented him from falling on his backside. Never before in his young life had Aragorn been as embarrassed as in the moments that followed his yelp. Instead of asking him what he was doing in his room at a time where he should be sleeping Legolas inquired if he had hurt himself which left the young human utterly impressed.  
  
Legolas had then taken him back to his own quarters and had stayed with him till he had fallen asleep – they had never mentioned Aragorns night-time- visits to anyone and in the morning Aragorn was always in his own rooms.  
  
He missed the light but at the same time deep friendship he had shared with Legolas – when had they grown apart? Had it been when they had started this quest to destroy the Ring or had it been earlier? Maybe when he fell in love with Arwen? No, definitely not – that had been over sixty years ago and he was sure that their friendship had been close for years after that. He was almost sure, that their friendship was still as close as before when they had started the quest – that is as close as he had thought their friendship to be!  
  
For eighty-one years he had known Legolas – almost his whole life – and still the elf had never told him that he was betrothed! Even more that he was betrothed to Arwens aunt – which meant that Legolas would be his uncle through marriage as soon as they had both married their betrothed.  
  
A new rage built itself within Aragorn, how could Legolas have been his best friend if he had never told him something like that? Legolas had been the first person he had told about his love for Arwen – that had been even before Arwen had returned those feelings for him – and NOW he learned that his "friend" had been betrothed even before they had met. He had not even mentioned Althilwen in passing.  
  
So what kind of friend was the elf?  
  
Somewhere deep inside him Aragorn knew that he was being unfair to his Elven friend: he knew that Legolas would die for him without a thought...  
  
Die for him...  
  
It was as if a strong wind had swept through his thoughts and cleared them, pushing everything unnecessary aside.  
  
Legolas would die for him.  
  
Suddenly he knew with a terrifying clarity when their friendship had been tainted, when it had shattered – and who had been the one to cause it.  
  
It had been himself not Legolas. He had been the one who may have very well destroyed their precious friendship beyond repair.  
  
The words he had uttered in despair before the battle at Helms Deep came back to hound him: "Then we will die as one of them, elf!".  
  
With one sentence he had done to irrevocable blunders: He had asked Legolas to die – no not asked him he had demanded of him that he die in that battle because he himself had lost hope. He had implied that Legolas was a coward because he had pointed out that they had not the forces to win that battle, he had demanded of an immortal to throw his life away.  
  
But worst of all he had used part of Legolas identity as an insult – he had called him elf as if that was something to be ashamed of!  
  
With one sentence he had degraded his loving upbringing in the house of Elrond, the friendship to Legolas, his love to Arwen and his own ancestry.  
  
How had Legolas been even able to look at him after he had spoken in that way to him? How had Legolas found it within his heart to come to him and APPOLOGISE for something that had been his right to say – after all he had only pointed out what was the plainly visible truth. How was Legolas able to fight at his side as if nothing had happened?  
  
Realisation set in, Legolas had been wounded in that battle and now that he thought of it he even remembered the exact moment when his friend – could he even dare to call Legolas his friend after all he had done to the elf – had been wounded.  
  
Moments before the wall blew apart he had seen that Legolas was shot, the last thing he remembered now clearly seeing was Legolas breaking the shaft of an arrow that was stuck in his side before continuing to fight.  
  
He had dismissed those memories earlier because Legolas continued fighting and didn't appear to be wounded – there had been more pressing matters then to control if he really wasn't wounded – now he wished he had made sure. 


	7. Finwes children

Cale au Aratar 7  
  
It was early morning – at least it would be in a few more hours, every normal being would take one look out of the window and turn around going straight back to bed. But this was not an option for him for today was the day of Aragorns coronation and he WOULD be there and if it would be the last thing he would do – which it could very well be.  
  
A few hours earlier the last of the elvish rulers had arrived in Minas Thirid and was led straight to his rooms. Lord Elrond had taken only one look at him before he had declared that it would take a long time for him to recover if it were at all possible.  
  
If truth be told he himself was not sure if he would recover at all. Luimîr and Elladan had kept him in bed for the last two and a half days but his strength was still waning; he knew as well as them that it was not only the poison the ailed him but far more – only he knew that he could do nothing against it.  
  
He had seen his fathers heart break as well as Celebrians – both had survived but both had not been themselfs after that. His father king Thranduil had nearly cried at the sight of his son in such a helpless state and only years of practice had allowed him to appear unaffected. The pain his father had radiated at his sight had crashed over him as soon as the older elf had entered the room.  
  
One of the downsides of being who he was, being the Calé au Aratar, the Light of the Valar, was that he was even more sensible to the feelings of those around him then any other elf. Only Lord Elrond was equally apprehensive about being close to too many people as his gift of sight tended to become more pronounced when in a larger group. Among elves he was able to suppress most of the visions but among mortals he was at their mercy.  
  
Althilwen and Elrond were the only ones who knew how much he wished for solace for those whose feelings he felt – as Elrond wished to be able to change the future he saw.  
  
The group from Imladris had arrived in the late evening hoping to avoid meeting with Aragorn before his coronation wanting to surprise him. Legolas was not sure if it was a good idea to force Aragorn to believe that his foster father and his one love had missed his coronation but he was to tired and to annoyed with Aragorn to argue with the Lord of Imladris – besides what good would it do, the house of Turgon was known for their stubbornness.  
  
After all wasn't Turgon the one who insisted that Gondolin was safe? – but then the other lines of Fingolfins children where not much better: While Aredhel was said to have been a soft spoken Lady her only son brought forth the downfall of Gondolin with his jealousy of Tuor. Fingon, the first of Fingolfins children was also the most considerate – very different from his two children Erenion – Gil-Galad – and Celebitiel.  
  
Gil-Galad was widely known for his stubbornness and his younger sister proved how stubborn she could be by marrying a Sindar elf when her family who consisted of proud Noldor hoped that she would also marry a Noldo – it didn't came as a surprise after that that Gil-Galad never married.  
  
Oh yes Legolas thought with an amused grin – at least it would have been an grin if his face hadn't immediately contoured into a grimace of pain – he was really one to judge about the stubbornness of others: almost every line that was known for their stubbornness came together in himself: from his mothers side he had the blood of Thingol and Melian as well as Rilêwen the first Avari who had left her family to marry a Noldo, well half Noldo half Maia.  
  
Even though his father was king of the Sindar he had only two Sindar in his family-tree, his mother and his grandfather, his grandmother was partly Vanya but mostly Noldo. Legolas himself was even less Sindar then his father as his mother had been mostly Avari ( and partly Noldo and Maia).  
  
If Althilwen and himself would ever have children all the lines of Finwë would be once again united. It would be amusing to see such children grow: the children of Finwës separated bloodline had caused mischief wherever they went, how much more havoc would a child bring that united those bloodlines?  
  
Sometimes he wondered if the Valar hadn't chosen him as High King in a ploy to destroy the race of Elves – it certainly looked that way when he remembered that he had shot the last High King when they had first met because he had been mistaken for a girl... But then he HAD been only twelve years old and his overly delicate form had been subject of much teasing – as he DID look like a girl from afar and knew it himself.  
  
Even now when he was clearly an adult did some humans mistake him for an elleth when they were seeing him from the distance and he was wearing gowns, which was exactly the reason while he was seldom wearing them. It was certainly not helping that his father and friends still teased him about his first meeting with Erenion.  
  
°) (°  
°)  
(°  
°)  
  
Only the fast reflexes of Elrond, Lord of Imladris, prevented that Legolas, prince of the woodland realm and soon to be High King of all Elves fell to the floor as he lost conscious. He was glad to notice that Thranduils eyes were still glazed over, he was not sure, if the seemingly stoic elf would handle seeing his only surviving child so near to death.  
  
When Silruinel and Tinmirwen had been killed by a band of Orcs shortly after the Last Alliance Thranduil had been devastated and had nearly faded. It had taken weeks before he had spoken again and only because he feared that his son Legolas would follow him to Namos halls if he would die. The Thranduil who he met not a year later was only a shell of the spirited elf he had last seen at the slopes of the Orodruin; the proud humorous elf that he had known was forever gone replaced by a seemingly cold and bad-tempered shell of an elf.  
  
Two and a half millennia later the memory of what had become of his friend was the only thing that prevented himself from following the example of his friend and closing all his feelings off. He know that he had become more serious after the departure of his beloved wife Celebrian to Valinor but unlike his friend he was still capable of showing his feelings.  
  
He had been shocked to see in Legolas eyes the same heartbreak he had seen before in the eyes of his father and in the eyes of his wife before she departed. While Thranduil had been able to stay in Arda he had lost his spirit, almost everything that had made him the son of Oropher, Celebrian had not had the comfort of being able just close of her feelings as every touch, however loving and soft, brought back the memories of her time as prisoner of the Orcs.  
  
Elrond drew in a pained breath as he dressed Legolas wound with the help of his son Elladan and Legolas uncle Luimîr. Even after the more then four centuries it brought memories of anguish to think of the last days he had spend with his wife after three weeks of uncertainty. What could have brought this anguish into Legolas eyes? What had he seen that allowed his heard to break, what had happened since he had left the Last Homely House? 


	8. Thoughts of the fathers

Cale au Aratar 8  
  
He watched his beloved son standing in front of him, his head held high his proud form not revealing that only hours ago he had lost conscious due to the constant pain he was experiencing. Only vaguely he heard the words Mithrandir and Aragorn, now King Elessar Telcontar, spoke declaring Aragorn king of Gondor – he had only eyes for his son.  
  
How long would his little Greenleaf be able to withstand the combined power of Morgoths-Tears and his breaking heart? How long before he died – or worse became like him, unable to show his feelings a mere shadow of his former self.  
  
It seemed to him as if it had only been yesterday when he had buried first his father and then only two years later his wife and his daughter. Tinmirwen had only been forty, a mere child to the first born. They had been on their way back home from Lothlorien when they had been ambushed by a stray band of Orcs. Legolas had been in the party that found the mangled body of his mother, Silruinel had still been a live and died in the arms of her son, her red hair matted with her own blood.  
  
They had spoken only once about the way Legolas had found his mother and sister, only once his son had been able to bear to talk about what he had seen. He had not seen the bodies of his wife and daughter as Legolas had threatened that he would join his mother and sister in Namos' halls if he insisted on seeing them. As much as he had wanted to say goodbye to his love and child he knew that the sight of them must have been truly horribly for his son to threaten him in such a way.  
  
For a moment his eyes strayed away from his son and swept over all those others in attendance elf and men alike – not to forget an Istari, a dwarf and four hobbits – and landed on Elrond. Once they had been close friends, before the battle at mount Orodruin, before his father and later his wife and child had been killed, before his heart had broken. ) ( ) ( Elrond tilted his head to his side as he felt someone looking at him. Thranduil. The king of Eryn Lasgalen looked lost among all those celebrating elves and men, lost because his normally impassive face showed a hint of fear, of apprehension, visible only to those who knew him well.  
  
He knew that in his own expression could be found the same emotions if one were to look closely enough. And if one were to look even closer at his eyes they could see that he was nearly as heavily drugged as Legolas.  
  
It was seldom that he allowed someone to drug him it didn't matter if he was gravely wounded or if he was only surrounded by many others as he was today. Neither his agility nor his senses were affected by the herbs he had taken only his ability to receive visions was dampened and yet he felt as if one of his senses had been cut of.  
  
The battle at the Orodruin had raged for two days, during the first he had believed to be able to fight without dampening his visions but when evening came he had readily agreed with Thranduil that he needed to be drugged to be able to fight on.  
  
When he had been younger, still a child, he had had visions nearly every night at that time he had feared to sleep and only years after he had met Galadriel had his visions lessened in frequency and he lost his fear to sleep.  
  
After the leaving of Celebrian the visions had returned with vigour and his friends and family had feared for his sanity when he had two or more visions a day. Since they insisted that he took calming herbs before he went to a large gathering such as this coronation, at least when more then a few dozen men were present.  
  
His thoughts went back to Thranduil, what would the king do if Legolas were to die? Would he survive or would he follow his family? He at least would still have his sons when Arwen followed Aragorn to death. Thranduil would have nothing left, his parents, brother, wife and daughter long gone.  
  
No, they could not allow that to happen! If not for Legolas himself then at least for the race of the first born, for Althilwen, for his father. All those would fade soon after Legolas. They had to find a way to unbreak´ his heart and cure the poison! None of them wanted to loose Legolas - not Luin Nor but Legolas the mischievous temperamental elf who did not care if he blew up at a High King or his horse, the one who befriended elves, men, hobbits and dwarfs alike and did not care what others thought of his choice of friends.  
  
Even if Legolas would survive his own daughter would not, she had chosen a mortal life like his own brother Elros millennia ago. She would die like the man she loved, fade away like his brother. There was nothing he could do to ease the pain she would experience, no herbs or teas would take the pain of mortality from her. Joy and sadness filled his heart at the thought of Arwens and Aragorns love, at the love of his youngest child and a descendent of his brother. Loving Aragorn had brought Arwen mortality and ultimately death but it had also brought her the greatest happiness – a happiness he himself had found with Celebrian and his brother with Elena a mortal woman.  
  
How could he scorn his daughter and Aragorn the love they had found even if it meant his daughters death? No, as much pain it brought to him he could not do that, he would treasur the few years he had left with his child and hope that she found the same happiness he had found with her mother.  
  
) ( ) ( )  
  
Legolas smiled as he saw Aragorn come over to him, newly crowned and ready to fulfil his destiny. Even through his smile he saw the sadness in his friends eyes that Arwen had not been there t witness his coronation. For a moment Legolas considered to let Aragorn continue in this believe before he decided that that would be cruel so with a small smile he stepped aside allowing a banner-holding elleth to step forward.  
  
He had to fight to keep the grin from his face that threatened to form on his lips as Aragorns eyes lit up in hope as he recognised the banner as one from Imladris and even saw a smiling Elrond slightly to the left of the girl.  
  
It truly was a comical sight as Arwen stepped from behind of the banner and all Aragorn could do for a few moments was stare at her – that is before he collected himself and rushed forward to engage her in a heated kiss.  
  
Looking around in an attempt to grant his soon-to-be niece and nephew a little privacy he noticed that Arwen was not the only one who was crying: most of the older matrons of Gondor had tears flowing down their cheeks as well as some of the elves. Among them also Arwens father Elrond who did nothing to hide his tears.  
  
To everyone who was not Elven or did not know much about their race this tears were only seen as happiness, even when they were so much more, tears of happiness and joy but also tears of sadness and longing. Sadness at loosing his daughter not only to a husband but also to death and longing for his own wife Celebrian.  
  
He wondered how long Elrond would to stay now that the official ceremony was over. The herbs he himself had been given were stronger then those Elrond had taken and already did he feel their effect waning. As he bowed with the others in front of the four hobbits he nearly stumbled as pain shot from his side through his whole body. Luckily his father and the ilsa tirnoë had not noticed the lack of grace as he stood once again tall and proud or they would have send him immediately back to bed.  
  
After he had fainted in the morning they had tried to convince him not to come to the coronation but he would have had none of that.  
  
Once he had readied himself and calmed the pain that pulsed inside of him he looked around to determine if someone had seen his laps of pain and was worried to notice all four hobbits as well as Eowyn and Eomer shooting him worried glances.  
  
) ( ) ( )  
  
This chapter is not meant to justify the use of drugs in any way! The only reason Elrond uses them in this chapter is because otherwise he would be flooded with visions and consecutively pass out. The herbs he has taken dampen his ability to receive visions but he takes them only in emergencies – like a huge battle or a mass-gathering like a coronation. Think of it as something like a pain-reliever – it doesn't sharpen your senses or dampen them it only stops something "Unnatural" like pain and visions. Both – pain and visions – are useful as a warning and it is therefor not wise to stop it completely but in certain situations they are a hindrance.  
  
That said on to more pressing matters:  
  
1. I'm not sure yet if Legolas will die in this story or not but it will still take some time till I get to the point where I have to decide.  
  
2. I will have to stop updating in two weeks for about two months as I will be without a computer but I'll try to update as much as possible before that.  
  
3. Please review! 


	9. Pleas of a hobbit

It was already afternoon when Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin stole away from the main festivities to enjoy themselves somewhere more quiet with some ale and food they had taken with them. Pippin, who knew as a guard of Gondor the palace better then the other three guided them to a little garden that was far enough away from the festivities to be private but close enough to still hear the music that was played.

Just as they sat down Merry spotted someone else who had sought solitude in that garden:

"Hey, Legolas come join us we have brought some food" he called altering the others to the elves presence.

As no answer came Pippin walked over to him brushing the warnings of the others off.

"He is ill, maybe he needs help..."

as he had reached the elf he turned around to Frodo,

"Do elves sleep with their eyes close? Legolas certainly didn't while we were travelling... I don't think he is just sleeping, he would have already woken up if he were!"

His quiet words brought the other hobbits over and after tying futilely to rouse the elf Pippin hurried out of the garden to bring help. The first one he spotted was unfortunately Aragorn, one of the only once he would and could not ask for help, not on this special day for him; but which were the elves who had come a few days prior?

Looking franticly around he did not notice the two elves who came towards him, only when one of them spoke to him did he look up and was shocked to look up to someone who looked almost identical to Legolas.

"You must come with me! You have healed Frodo, can't you do something for Legolas? He is in one of the gardens and we don't know what is wrong with him!"

Only after he had spoken and saw the panicked glimmer in the eyes of Legolas father did he realise that he could have chosen his words a little bit more careful, but then they DID need help and better the king was in a bit of panic now then that they came to late to help Legolas and he would not allow that someone else died because of him.

It took only moments for the two elves and the hobbit to reach the garden where they found the other hobbits sitting besides the ill elf who had his eyes still closed. Kneeling down besides the younger elf lord Elrond immediately checked for a pulse and after finding one he started to open the other elves tunic.

"Elrond, please tell me how my son fares!"

Thranduils pleading words were nothing more than a whisper but they let Elrond pause for a moment in his work; he did not turn around as he answered but continued to undress the wound that went through the side of the youngest of the three elves.

"He is still alive, my friend..."

pausing for a moment as if debating if he should continue before he spoke again, his voice filled with regret,

"You can see your sons wound, Thranduil, and you know what Morgoths tears do. Elladan and Luimîr have done everything that is possible to try to stop the poison from killing him - but we both know that it is not only the poison that is taking his life. If we can't find the reason for his breaking heart he will not live till the coronation!"

Only when he had carefully redressed the wound and rebottomed the tunic did Elrond turn around and face his friend and the four hobbits whose faces were as pain-filled as his own.

"We must bring him back to his room, there is nothing I can do here for him and he would not want to let Aragorn see him in this ill.

Master Pippin, do you know a way to his rooms that don't take us over the court yard? Thranduil, please find Althilwen as well as Luimîr and Elladan and come with them to Legolas chambers."

Thranduil tried to protest as Elrond picked up HIS son and send him of to round up the others while HIS son was carried unconscious to his rooms but seeing the worry on the elf-lords face he complied and hurried to find the two healers and his sons betrothed.

After arriving in the elf-prince rooms Elrond immediately directed the four hobbits to help him undress Legolas and bring fresh water and alcohol to clear his wound from the poison which was slowly leaving his body.

"Master Elrond?"

addressed Sam shyly the Elf Lord after he had cleared the wound from the thick sickly grey poison and was just finishing re-bandaging the wound. Looking up the elf Lord bid him to continue.

"Outside you said to the king that Legolas is dying... there is a way to stop that, isn't there? He can't die now that Mr Frodo has destroyed the ring and the war is over and now that Master Aragorn is king! There must be something we can do to save him, there just has to be a way."

Sam finished almost in a whisper.

Regret filled Elronds heart as he saw the grief stricken face of the hobbit. This four hobbits, especially Sam and Frodo had endured so much in the last months on behalf of all of Arda. They did not deserve any of the hardship they had suffered, they should be happy in their shire, having nothing more to worry about than were they had put their ale or pipe-weed... and yet without these four hobbits Middle Earth would have been lost, only they had been able to destroy the ring.

And even if it would be only to spare them from this new grief he would try everything in his power to save Legolas life, he would have even tried to find a way to revive Sauron if that would have brought joy into the hearts of the four hobbits.

And yet he would not lie about the condition of the Elven prince, he owed them at least his honesty if he could not guarantee the life of their mutual friend.

"Master Samwise, Legolas is suffering from a broken heart - one of the few things that can kill an elf. As his body is already fighting against the deadly poison he is even less able to find the will to fight his own grief. Only his strong will to see Aragorn accepting his crown and his oath to Frodo have kept him alive this long.

Legolas is the only one who knows what caused his heart to break and only if we find the reason and are able to remedy it can we save Legolas... But every day, every hour brings him closer to Namos halls and if we don't find a way to help him soon there will be nothing we can do for him.

I can see it in his eyes that he does not want to die, to leave us to grieve for him but his strength is veining, if he should survive and the cause is still there he will suffer every minute of his life.

It would be a mercy for him to die if we can't help him, no-one deserves to live with a broken heart, least of all Legolas!"

A tear slid down Elronds face as he spoke of the future that would await Legolas if they did not manage to find and erase the cause of his broken heart soon, a fate that his father was already living with for three millennia, a life without joy or peace, imprisoned in his grief and pain.

Carefully he stroked Legolas golden hair, he had lost his best friend and wife to a broken heart, he had almost lost himself to it and he knew that he would also loose his daughter to that fate. Neither Thranduil nor Celebrian could be saved and for Arwen it was also to late, had been to late from the moment she gave her heart to a mortal... he could not bear the thought of also loosing his prince, his friend, in a few weeks his king, to grief.

Elrond knew, that he would not only loose Legolas if he succumbed to his grief and the poison but also the shadow of his best friend Thranduil. Thranduil would not survive the death of his last surviving child after he had already lost his own parents, wife and daughter to the Halls of Mandos.

Legolas had to survive, he had to live for his betrothed, for his father and for his friends - but he could not wish for Legolas to survive if that would condemn him to an eternity of pain.

His sons had told him that the dwarf Gimli might know the cause of Legolas grief but that they had yet to speak with him. Did the future of the whole race of First Borne lay in the hand of a dwarf?

He was aware of the strong bond of friendship that had formed between the Elven prince and the dwarf and Elrohir had told him, that Legolas had fulfilled the oath he had given Aule with the help of Gimli, he only hoped, that Gimlis friendship would be strong enough to help in saving Legolas.

Elladan had told him that he feared that Legolas would survive, survive as Luin Nor, as a mere shell of Legolas, bereft of all his joy, all his emotions that defined him as a person, leaving only his sense of duty, the prince.

He had seen the same pain in Legolas eyes that his son had seen, the same pain he had seen every time he had looked at his wife after their sons had rescued her from the Orcs and before she had sailed West, the same pain he saw every time he looked at Thranduil. A pain that was filled with so much love, love that had kept them alive, love that made it impossible for them to fade, to find relieve.

It was Celebrians love for himself and for their sons and daughter that had allowed her to survive her capture even while her pain and grief was slowly killing her; it was Thranduils sense for duty and his love for Legolas that had kept him alive when first his father had been slain and his mother had succumbed to grief and only a short time later his wife and daughter had also been killed. And it would also be Legolas love for his father, his betrothed and his friends as well as the knowledge that it was his duty as the Calé au Aratar to survive that would keep is body alive while his soul was dying.

None of them had been there when Legolas heart had broken, none of them knew what had caused it - those who had been there had no knowledge of elves that would have allowed them to recognise the signs and help him immediately. He saw in the faces of his mortal friends that they would do everything in their power and even more to save their immortal friend, he just hoped that it would be enough, that Legolas still could be saved.


	10. I nearly caused his death

Cale au Aratar 10

As soon as Thranduil, Althilwen Elladan and Luimîr entered, accompanied by Gimli and six of the ilsa tirnoë did Elrond direct them to different tasks:

"Thranduil, Althilwen, Gimli, Frodo, Sam Merry, Pippin, try to wake Legolas up, speak to him, try everything you can think of to bring him back!

Elladan, Luimîr come over here. And you, guard this room: no-one can enter who is not one of you, especially not king Ellessar!"

Guiding the two other healers into a corner of the room he continued in old Quenya, conscious of the hobbits who were trying to listen to what he was saying:

"We have to stop the bleeding of the wound, if it continues as it does now it will not be the poisons or his heart that kills him but a loss of blood. I have brought some athelas-oil with me, but I fear that it will not be enough, till morning we must have fresh oil to be able continue the treatment. You have to make it while I will try to call Legolas back from the darkness after I have spoken to Gimli - he may be the only one who knows what has happened to him. Go, we have no time to loose."

The one thing they needed most they did not have, time. He could not imagine how the prince of Eryn Lasgalen, the High Prince, had managed to survive this long with the wounds he carried. When he had seen him in Rohan he had immediately felt that something was wrong with the younger elf but had been insured that it was only Morgoths tears that caused the change, he had been to caught up in his worry over Arwen that he had not dared to look closer, fearing what he might find.

How he wished that he had called Legolas unto this obvious lie - maybe they would have found by now the reason for his breaking heart. But than, what would he have done? He was the only one who knew how to brew the antidote against Morgoths tears, the only one who was able to save Legolas from that death.

But now was not the time for regret, now he had to ask Gloins son for everything he knew that might help:

"Master Gimli, " he spoke stepping to the bed around which Legolas closest family the hobbits and the dwarf were sitting, "may I have a word with you about what you mentioned to my sons?"

He was astounded how readily the dwarf stood up and followed him into a airy sitting room that was adjourned o the bedroom.

"My son Elrohir told me that you seemed to have an idea what might have caused Legolas heartbreak..."

Elrond began and stopped seeing the dwarf nod.

"Yes, he behaved strange during the last two months: it started before the battle at Helms Clam but only after we visited Orthang did he really start to act peculiar. At Orthang Pippin had picked up a large christal-ball which Gandalf took immediately from him, claiming that it was on of the Palantiri. During that night Pippin took it from Gandalf to look into it, not knowing how dangerous it was. He started to scream and writhe in pain until Aragorn tore it from his hands.

In pain Aragorn fell back but was caught by Legolas and moments later he let the ball fall out of his hands. As soon as was clear that Aragorn was not seriously harmed Legolas ran over to where Pippin was lying and cradled his head into his hands and held him till he calmed down.

Shortly after that Legolas left the room and came only back in the morning before Gandalf left with Pippin for Gondor; he was even quieter and paler than before but when I asked him what happened he shrugged it of as nothing - claiming that he would just miss Pippin now that we had found him once again."

At this point Gimli paused, seeing the pale shocked face of the elf Lord before him:

"You know what happened to him that night, don't you?"

he asked him, fearing the answer even before it was given.

"Yes, I know what happened..." came the slow, pained answer from the Lord of Imladris,

"You know what the poison was created for and by whom...and I am also sure that Elrohir has told you who or rather what Legolas is, what he stands for...

The moment he touched Aragorn who was holding the Palantir he opened himself to Sauron in order to save Aragorn form the pain he would otherwise have felt; but in doing so he risked his own life: he allowed Sauron to see who the High Prince is - and that he was poisoned, affected by the most horrible poison ever created.

In that very moment he was submitted to all the malice Sauron had used when he created together with his master Morgoth the first Orcs millennia ago. It is a wonder that Legolas survived that encounter and was not turned but from what you have just told me I must conclude that even after that he was not willing to stop before he had also helped the young hobbit.

From what you described I gather that Legolas gave Pippin his own strength and peace, that would also be the reason why he left the room after that, he would have had barely any strength left for himself. Only by the grace of the Valar he could have survived that night!

May Elebereth always shine with such a mercy upon him!

But you said that his behaviour had changed even before then, what happened before the battle, somehow you seem sure that that may be the real reason for Legolas troubles!"

Deep in thought Gimli sat opposite from the elf, not sure how to continue his tale, how to tell him what he knew. Yes, he had to tell Lord Elrond what he knew - but how could he betray one of his friends for the other? Even when he was sure, that Aragorn would forgive him if this would save the life of their mutual friend ...but still.

"Master Gimli?" inquired Elrond.

"Before the battle he and Aragorn had an argument ... at first I thought nothing of it, just that Legolas was offended by what Aragorn had said but now when I think back to it I know that there was more, that I am overseeing something, something important..."

he trailed of, once again lost in memories of that evening. He could recall every word his friends had spoken, every gesture they had made and suddenly he realised what he had been missing all this weeks: when Aragorn had uttered his last words his voice had been filled with not only anger but also fear, hate, accusation, resignation and hopelessness. He had not seen Legolas face but he had been able to see his friend flinch for a second before his whole posture stiffened. That must have been the cause of their problems - but what exactly had it been that let the elf flinch? Was it the hate, the anger?

"Their argument was about the men of Rohan, who were either to young or to old for battle, Legolas said something in your language and their argument started; Aragorn ended it as he said to him in Common:

"Then we will die as one of them, elf"...

Legolas flinched at those words and than stiffened... during the battle he seemed once again fine and shortly after that we left for Orthang... I didn't even notice that he was wounded..."

And silently he added: What kind of friend am I? I bantered with him about the number of Orcs each of us had slain when he knew that he was poisoned and would most likely die...

The quiet emotion laden whisper of the elf brought him back to the presence:

"Oh Estel, what have you done! Have I thought you nothing about elves? Have you forgotten all you have learned? You have lived with our people for so long - and yet you are still careless enough to bring death to your best friend... It would have been more merciful

if you had shot him or had driven Andruil into his heart..."

Gimli was shocked to see tears sliding down the pale cheeks of the elf. Feeling the gaze of the dwarf Elrond looked at him and spoke, not even trying to conceal his emotions, his tears:

"It was Aragorn, one of Legolas and my own family, who broke Legolas' heart - and I don't even think that he is aware of it!

It were not Aragorns words but his hopelessness, the fact that he had given up, that he did not believe that he would survive and worse yet, that he did not want to survive...

The moment he asked of Legolas, his best friend, to die, the moment Legolas must have known that he was all that stood between Aragorn and Namos halls - had he been killed that night Aragorn would have given up completely, he would have not fought back anylonger if an Orc had raised his scmitar against him - and with Aragorn Arwen would have died.

I doubt that Legolas will ever be able to forgive Aragorn that he risked Arwens life so carelessly, he sees in Arwen his dead sister... I am not sure if I can forgive Aragorn for that...

What has he done?" Elrond choked,

"Only when Aragorn sees his error on his own will he be able to save Legolas, there is nothing we can do for either of them. If anyone tells Aragorn what he has done and how and Legolas should ever learn of it his heart will irrevocable break and nothing will then be able to save him.

No, only Aragorn can save him - and he is not even aware of what he has done!

Thranduil can never learn of what Aragorn has caused in his fear and hopelessness."

His eyes closed and his face turned to the darkening sky that was visible through the window, Elrond uttered a whispered prayer in Sindar to his deceased father:

"Oh father, Earendil, if I ever needed you, this is the moment: show your sons heir a way to rebuilt what he has broken! Let Aragorn not be burdened with the guilt of having caused the death of his best friend!"

For a moment both sat still, till Elrond stood suddenly up and cleared the tears from his face; before he left the room he turned to Gimli:

"Do not scorn Aragorn, he is not aware of what he has done, he would have never willingly caused Legolas harm, he would die for him if the need be...

You have to get ready for the banquet, it will soon start and Aragorn would miss you and the hobbits if you were not present..."

He stopped in his step as he heard Gimlis reply:

"He will not notice that we are there if Legolas is missing!"

"Aragorn will see that you are there - as will be Legolas if I can help it!"

he answered with a slight edge to his voice and left the room. Inside the bedroom he send everyone away to get ready for the banquet and even Thranduil left after he promised that he would come back shortly.

Alone in the room with the unconscious elf Elrond sat down behind Legolas on the bed and positioned himself in that way that Legolas upper body was leaning heavily on his chest and the wounded elf's head could rest on his left shoulder. Drawing a deep breath he closed his eyes and willed himself to enter the mind of the elf resting against him; almost immediately he found himself on a cliff next to Legolas.

"What do you see, tithen?"

He asked the golden haired elf who did not look away from the water that was roaring below, his face a mask of intense pain.

"Aragorn fell from this cliff, haryon nin... I feared he was death but he came back, bloodied, wet and dirty - but alive! Our little child was alive and I have seldom felt more happiness then in that moment..."

Elrond had turned his head in alarm as Legolas had addressed him as his heir, had Legolas already given up his hope, did he no longer expect to live?

"You call him **our little child**"

he stated more than questioned and was rewarded with a small smile.

"Did you know that Arathron was my best friend, that I was there when he grew up, when he married and when Aragorn was born? After his parents I was the first who held Aragorn.

I was there when Arathron was slain, I held him in my arms as he drew his last breaths..."

Only now did he turn to face Elrond and the other elf was nearly overwhelmed with the sadness he saw in the golden-ones eyes.

"I promised Arathron that I would always be there for his little boy, that I would treat him as I treated him, that I would be there for him if he needed me..."

once again he turned his head away to look down the steep cliff,

"I broke that promise when I allowed Aragorn to fall down this cliff...

When I came to Imladris all these years ago I just wanted to keep my promise to my friend but I had not planned to start to care for him!

After Arathron had died I promised myself to never again care for a mortal, yes, I would take care for his son as I had promised but I would not get attached to him... And then when I saw him after five years and he came to me that night I saw not a duty in him, the subject of a promise but a charming young boy who was also the son of my best friend.

In that moment I knew that I loved him like I would love my own son...

I have failed him, failed to show him that there is always hope, that there is always a reason to live...

Elrond, he had given up, he wanted to die that day in Helms Clam and nothing I could do could give him back his hope, I have failed both father and son, two of the best friends I have ever had ... and I failed them!

I came to late to save Arathron and I allowed that his son lost his will to live, the knowledge that there was someone waiting for him."

With tear filled eyes he turned to Elrond:

"I heard him tell Lady Eowyn on our way to Helms Deep that Arwen was sailing to the West - I did not correct him, I did not tell him that she would never leave him even if that would mean her death. I knew that Arwen would never find peace without him, that it would be her greatest joy to spent the rest of her life with him no matter if that only meant a few years - but I did not tell him this, I allowed that he despaired, that he believed himself alone in the world.

Elrond, I am the reason that Aragorn nearly died that night! If it weren't for Gimli and the warriors you sent to our help Aragorn would have fallen - and with him Arwen... I nearly caused the death of your daughter and your brothers last heir!"


	11. neither my heart nor body are able to en...

Cale au Aratar 11

Elrond frowned his brow as he heard this: maybe there was a way for him to help.

"Legolas, Arwen was going to sail to the West, I had made sure of that! Before you left Imladris together with the Fellowship I asked Aragorn to set Arwen free so that she may remain with her people... Before you left he asked Arwen to leave, to sail so that she would not forfeit her immortality - I had not seen that she had already chosen a mortal life, that she had already decided her future when I asked this of Aragorn... and he believed me.

Arwen was already on her way to the Grey Anfurts when she had a vision of Aragorn and their son... their union is blessed by the Valar or even Eru himself, nothing we have done could have destroyed it...

Before Arwen was born I had a vision of her death, this vision was the reason why I had send Arwen to her grandmother when I received your message of Arathrons dead, I feared that his son would be the one who would gain my daughters heart.

It was not your fault that Aragorn believed that he would see Arwen never again, I had made sure of that. I did not want to loose my only daughter like I had lost my brother: when Elros had fallen in love with an edain I had tried to convince him to still chose an immortal life, but he chose his love, ... just like Arwen...

It was not your fault that he believed himself alone, nothing you could have said would have made him believe otherwise!"

For the first time since he had left Imladris with the Fellowship did Elrond see a glimmer of hope in the High Prince eyes.

"Legolas, you have to come with me now, you have to wake up - maybe we are still in time for the banquet and you can see for yourself that Aragorn has found his will to live!"

Elrond held his hand out to the elf next to him and was relieved as it was grasped.

As they opened their eyes the two tear streaked elves on the bed found themselves face to face with the two sons of Lord Elrond and Legolas father Thranduil, all already clad for the banquet.

"If you hurry, we will still be in time for the banquet, I will help you get dressed father and Elladan will help Thranduil with Legolas," and to Legolas he added," you gave ada and your father quiet a scare when Pippin told them that they had found you unconscious in a garden!

Don't do that ever again - uncle!"

He concluded with a wink which was returned with a tired smile.

The five elves were just in time for the start of the banquet the four hobbits, Gimli, Althilwen, Luimîr and the rest of the ilsa tirnoë who all knew that Legolas had been the whole afternoon without conscious, were delighted to see that Legolas was also present.

With alarm Elrond watched how Aragorn avoided Legolas eyes during the whole banquet; even though they were sitting only two seats apart did he never directed his words to the Elven prince.

He could do nothing as he noticed the glimmer of hope in the elves eyes fade as he himself observed his friends behaviour. Why asked Elrond himself did Aragorn not see what he was doing to his best friend, how his actions were literary killing him?

It was Luimîr who first noticed the dark stain on his nephews silver-green tunic but as he tried to motion Legolas to follow him out of the hall to his rooms the prince only shook his head and continued to talk to his friends as if nothing happened. Only after the banquet was finished did he allow his uncle to lead him back to his rooms.

"Legolas, you should have come with me when I asked of you to leave - you are loosing to much blood to continue as if you were not wounded!"

Even though he was scolding the only son of his sister was the worry he felt clearly visible. Like Elrond of Imladris he was a healer and like him he knew that Legolas wound should have long stopped its bleeding and even though it was still open and would not heal till both poisons had left his body it should not bleed.

"What good would if had done if I had followed you, uncle? We both know why my wound is not healing - and why it is still bleeding. It would make no difference if I had followed you immediately and it will not stop me to go back to the dancing!"

Seeing his mothers brother start to protest he continued with a cold edge:

"You won't stop me from returning, uncle, even if I will rue it in the morning I will be there and you can either help me or at least not hinder me. I have promised both Arathron and Aragorn that I would be there for him at this day and nothing will keep me from fulfilling that promise except the Valar themselves!"

Torn Luimîr watched as Legolas staggered as he tried to walk on his own over to a chair to allow him to redress his wound. When Legolas had been a child almost no-one had been able to deny him anything: the prince of the Woodland Realm had always seemed so fragile, as if every wind could blow him over, break him. Even most of the eleths had seemed more robust than the prince and all had feared that he was to delicate for Arda.

As the Aratar had chosen him as their Light, as the leader of all Eldar the fear for him had only increased as he would now be in even more danger from the dark forces.

Surprising all Legolas had shown even as a child a talent with the bow, a bow he had secretly taken out of the armoury of his grandfather king Oropher.

The bow the young prince had chosen was taller than himself but he had been able to hit the target dead-centre and after that he had always been fascinated with bows and other weapons - except the sword. It had been Celebrimbor who had given Legolas the other two weapons he favoured besides the bow above all others: a double blade forged out of Mithril and his white twin knives that he always carried securely fasted at his quiver.

Carefully he was redressing the lethal wound on his lords side, all the while praying that this relatively young elf may find peace, no longer caring if on Arda or the halls of Mandos.

"Here, Legolas - take some of your fathers wine, it will dull your pain so that you may enjoy yourself for a few hours ... but please come back to your rooms as soon as the pain grows stronger to rest, there is no reason to make your wound even worse than it already is.!"

Thankful the younger elf took the goblet that his uncle had filled for him, knowing very well that he would not be able to stay at the celebration when the pain returned with vengeance. He had tried it during the day when the drugs Elrond had given him had worn off, hoping that he would be able to return to the festivities after a bit of rest - and had promptly lost conscious. If it hadn't been for Elronds efforts he would still be unconscious and he knew as well as the others, that it was unlikely that he would be able to wake up if he lost conscious again so soon.

As they came back the dancing had already started and Althilwen was dancing with her nephew Elrohir so that Legolas was able to watch her for a few moments before the dance stopped and they parted. It had been over a year since he had last danced with his betrothed and even though he knew that it would be painful even with the wine he would enjoy it greatly. Stepping forward to intercept her before a noble-man of Gondor could reach her he felt beneath all his pain and grief happiness.

No-one who was watching the daughter of the Lord and Lady of the Golden Woods and the heir of the Woodland Realm dance was able to guess that both feared the future: Althilwen because there was nothing she could do to ease the grief of her Beloved and feared that he would die even before their wedding either of the deadly poison that was torturing him or on his broken heart.

She had known him most of her life and had known form the first time she had seen him, not knowing who he was, that she would never love someone else and that she would fade if she lost him. It was not for her own life she was fearing, no elf feared death even though they were immortal - or was it because they were immortal and were therefor not able to fully comprehend death - but for the life of the elf she loved more than anything else.

When Isildur had claimed the Ring for himself their wedding that had been planned for the year after the war had finished had been postponed to a time when it would be save for her to be the wife of the High King, one of the greatest enemies of Sauron, one of the few who were able to resist the power of his greatest weapon the One Ring - and the only one besides the Valar and Eru who could grant the right to enter the Blessed Realm.

If Legolas would die, she had sworn herself as she had learned of his wound, she would hunt down the traitor Saruman herself and would kill him as slowly as possible - and then she would follow her love to Namos halls.

Like his betrothed Legolas did not fear for his own future but for his friends and family, he knew of the pain it would bring to them, no matter if he survived or faded. When his mind had followed Elrond to awareness he had still believed that there would be a chance for him to overcome his breaking heart - but when he had seen Aragorn, had seen how his best friend had still not found the peace he had possessed before they had started on their quest to destroy the ring he had lost all hope for himself.

He knew that it had been foolish to place his heart in the hands of a mortal, had known it even before he did so, but he had not been able to withstand the charm of Arathrons small son.

From the moment his heart had decided that it saw in Aragorn the son he did not yet have, had it been tied to the happiness of the edain. Aragorn was not aware of this ties, was not aware how important he was to the elf - and therefor he had not been aware at Helms Clam that he had rudely ribbed this bonds off when he had declared that they would die together with the men of Rohan as one of them.

How could he blame Arathrons son for his breaking heart when it was his own fault, when Aragorn had not even been aware of his ability to wound the other more lethal than any weapon could? Never had he told Aragorn that his despair, his hopelessness, his resignation, his fear, his anger would kill his Elven friend, for how could he burden someone he thought of as a son in that way?

After a few dances they were interrupted by Lord Celeborn who wished to dance with his daughter - and to give Legolas a chance to rest. Seeing most of the present dancing Legolas was able to wander of into a quieter place of the palace grounds were he was after a few moments followed to by Frodo.

"How are you, Legolas... I saw you and the other elf leaving after the banquet - and I saw why.."

the quiet hobbit trailed of, fearing that he might have offended his friend with his bold question.

For a long time Legolas only looked at the hobbit till he sat carefully down, his back leaning against a wall. He indicated for Frodo to join him before he answered:

"I am as well as can be expected - and I know, that if I were to ask you, you would answer the same: that you are fine."

Frodo had to smile for a moment at this answer that was so typical for an elf: as Bilbo had told him as a small lad, never ask an elf, they will always answer you both yes and no. On one hand Legolas had told him that he was fine - but on the other hand he had conceded that he was no more fine than he himself and as the first anniversary of his wounding with the Morgul Blade at Wheathertop neared he was already feeling rather ill and weak.

"Will you survive?"

there was no polite way to ask this question, but Frodo needed to be sure, to be sure if he was also responsible for the kind elf's death and he knew that Legolas would not scorn him this question.

Legolas stared into the sky that had already darkened and where Eärendil was showing.

"Do you see Eärendil?"

he questioned the hobbit,

"We believe that the Valar placed this star in honour of Elronds and Elros father on the sky who sailed West in order to plea with the Valar to send help to Arda against Morgoth, in a time the Valar had banned the Noldo from entering the Blessed Realm.

His love for Arda was so great that he left his wife and his newly born sons to gain help, knowing that without it Arda would fall.

The Valar heard his plea and sent an army that conquered Morgoths army of Darkness and imprisoned him for eternity. In the night Morgoth fell the Valar gave my people a promise that one of the First Born would become the Cale au Aratar, the Light of the Valar.

This elf, a child of all the different races of Eldar would be able to grant entrance to Valinor to whomever he wanted and would unite all First born.

He would be the one who would mend the rift between his race and Aules children and he would be able to raise an army against the darkness if there walked no-one on Arda who could defeat it."

Legolas trailed of and directed his eyes at Frodo, who was stunned by the sadness that filled them.

"Like Eärendil I have not given up on Arda, I will not condemn my people to have to remain here and never be able to see the Elven Home...

My love for all life on Arda, my love for my family and friends is all that I have to ensure that I will not fade, neither my heart nor my body are anylonger able to ensure that I will live."

Not being able to see the sadness and guilt in the eyes of the hobbit he turned once again to the sky before he continued:

"No Frodo, neither my wound nor my breaking heart are your fault, you did more for us than anyone could have done. Before we started from Imladris I did not expect that we would succeed, the chances that we would be able to destroy the ring were very slim - and that we would survive even slimmer. Then when you and Sam parted from us at the falls of Rauros the chances that you would succeed became higher - but the chances that you would survive became almost non existing.

When we left Moria after Mithrandir and fallen into the shadows, I became aware that the one who would be able to defeat the darkness was found. Not by one of the Eldar or even the Istari but by the Darkness itself. Darkness had found his own destruction when the ring fell into Bilbos hands.

You have done more for Middle Earth than we could ever repay you, Frodo Baggins. Be assured in the knowledge that Valinor will always welcome you if you are no longer able to bear this shores."

After a glance at the saddened face of the hobbit he continued on a lighter note:

"Frodo, today we bowed before you, Sam, Merry and Pippin as a sign of our gratitude, will you, together with Sam, Pippin and Merry do the Eldar the honour of presenting their High King his crown? In the times past the crown was always presented by the highest ranking member of the court, which would be Lord Elrond - but it was your sacrifice who made it possible that the king can come forth again..."

Frodo was stunned by Legolas request, he was asked to present THE Elven king his crown. Since he had first heard of elves he had been awed by them, not as much as Sam but awed all the same. When he had met the first elf in Rivendell, Lord Elrond himself, the awe had turned into respect, even more so while he had travelled with Legolas and he knew that he would always count the elf besides him among his friends...

But to present the king his crown was something totally different, could he possible accept this honour?

"But why me? The others I can understand, but I claimed the Ring! If it hadn't been for Sam I wouldn't even have made it to Mount Doom and it was Smeágol who destroyed the Ring, not me!""

he asked in bewilderment

"Because without you there would be no coronation! Sam did not set out from Rivendell to destroy the Ring but be there for YOU, like Merry and Pippin. YOU accepted the ring, knowing that you would most likely not return from Mordor and yet you were willing to risk your life because no one else came forward; You four are among the bravest people I have ever had the honour of meeting, non of you were warriors and yet you set out to defeat the greatest evil Middle Earth has seen since the day Morgoth fell.

Will you accept?"

To overwhelmed to answer Frodo only nodded, knowing in his heart that the elf was right, but his mind could yet not accept that he had not failed them in claiming the Ring for himself.

Before Legolas had to leave the festivities, to exhausted to continue pretending that he was not dying, he managed to find the other three hobbits and convince them to present the crown together with Frodo. While Merry and Pippin readily agreed Sam was even harder to convince than Frodo, claiming alternately that he was just a gardener and not fit for such an honour and that he had done nothing on this quest than his duty to protect Master Frodo. It was only when Frodo found his way to them that he was able to get Sam to agree to his request.


	12. Cuilya

Cale au Aratar 12

Two days after Aragorns coronation, Legolas and Gimli could be found in one of the gardens of Minas Tiriths topmost level, softly conversing alternately in Common or Khuzdul, from time to time Legolas translated something for his friend into one of the three Elven languages which the dwarf then tried to repeat.

Both sat with their backs resting against the trunks of two opposite from each other standing trees; at the elf's request Gimli had even refrained from unpacking his pipe and was instead idly playing with a blade of grass.

"Legolas, how old are you really? One of those blasted twins mentioned that they have known you when they were children and that you have known the last High King of your people - but if I remember correctly, and I always do!, he died in the Last Alliance."

For a long moment Legolas only stared with his brilliant blue eyes at the dwarf before he answered slowly:

"You have to forgive the two - though I believe that it was Elrohir who mentioned that I knew Gil-Galad, Elladan is more discrete than his brother - for confusing you in this way; they are still rather young in the eyes of my people and even though they should know better they apparently do not.

To answer your question, yes, I am older than Lord Elronds sons, and I have known the last High King since my twelfth year: the first time we met I shot him because he had offended me, only years later did we become friends..."

Legolas trailed off, smiling at the memory of his first meeting with Erenion. He had only been fascinated by the beautiful bow that was leaning against one of the trees and had had no intention to use it. Only when Erenion had called him an eleth and had told him that he would not be strong enough to fire it, did he pick up the bow and notched an arrow from the quiver besides it. The reason he did fire the bow was that he had indeed not been strong enough to hold the arrow notched; all he could do was redirect the arrow in the last moment to the High Kings shoulder as it had before been aimed at his heart.

Erenion had later given him the bow as they had become friends and Legolas had told him why he had really shot him, it still rested on the wall in his study in his fathers palace.

"I have nearly completed my fifth millennia but in comparison to my father or even more the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn I am still a child - as they are in comparison to Fangorn..."

Open mouthed Gimli stared at his friend, the elf before him was nearly five thousand years old, he had expected a few hundreds at the most and had not believed Lord Elronds son when he had said that Legolas had known Gil-Galad. Five Thousand years!

"You are nearly five thousand years old? Khazad Dum was still the home of my people at that time!

Are you really that old?"

He questioned his friend disbelievingly but looked up as he heard quiet footsteps and saw that Aragorn was making his way over to them.

Legolas had also looked to Aragorn as he saw the dwarfs eyes gliding away from himself. His heart tightened as he saw his friend who was the cause of its breaking heart - no, he corrected himself, Aragorn is not the cause but my own foolishness.

As soon as Aragorn stood next to them Gimli excused himself, telling them that he had promised to meet the hobbits for a pipe or two and a second breakfast.

"What did you say to let Gimli forget that nothing an elf could say can awe him if it does not come from Lady Galadriels mouth?"

The king of Gondor questioned his friend as he sat down on the spot Gimli had vacated at his arrival.

"I told him my age"

Legolas answered, the soft smile still playing around his lips.

"Your age? You have told Gimli your age? ... You have never told me how old you are..."

Aragorns voice was not only filled with surprise but also a hint of accusation, that someone who had known the elf only for a year learned his age, while he, who had known him for most of his life did not know it.

"He asked."

Was all the elf replied, the smile having left his face.

"Will you tell me when I ask?"

the edain had often wondered how old his friend really was but had not dared to ask him and therefor only knew that he was older than his twin-brothers.

"When you ask, I will answer."

If he hadn't seen the tiredness of his friend Aragorn would have tackled him for this answer; but as his curiosity had been awoken he had no choice but to ask:

"So how old are you?"

"Nearly five thousand years... So I am still rather young..."

Aragorn was equally astounded as Gimli had been a few moments earlier, his best friend had lived as the great city of Eregion had still been standing, where the Rings of power had been forged by Celebrimbor - and Sauron.

"You are old enough to have seen Gondor in his glory and also Eregion..."

he whispered just loud enough that the elf could hear him.

"Yes, I have often visited Eregion before its destruction - it was a beautiful city, I still miss Celebrimbor, he was one of my best friends... he was the one who forged my fighting knives and my double-blade..."

Legolas trailed off, his voice filled with pain and Aragorn cursed himself for bringing back painful memories when his friend was already in so much pain.

"I have also met Sauron when he still pretended to be on our side, even though he had already shown his true face as soon as he had learned all he could from Celebrimbor...

When he had arrived in Eregion he had given a false name and had taken the appearance of one of my people, making Celebrimbor, who had never met him before, believe that he had finally found an Eldar who was equally gifted with the making of weapons and jewellery as himself.

Therefor he shared all his thoughts with Morgoths Herald, seeing too late who his supposed friend really was. It was then that I last saw him, only a few weeks before Eregion was destroyed and he lost his life, defending the last ring of power, the one he did not give away with the other three."

He could still remember the beautiful Ring that was even more powerful than Vilya, the Ring of Air that was first borne by Erenion and since his death by Elrond. Before he had told Aragorn he had been the only one since Celebrimbors death who knew of the ring of earth, which Celebrimbor had fondly called the ring of life, his life-work.

When he had last seen his friend, the smith had told him where he had hidden the ring from Sauron who had learned of his existence. Only when all four Elven-Rings would be united would they show their true power, till than it would appear as if their powers were waning.

Celebrimbor had asked of him to become the next bearer of Cuilya but he did not want the power of the ring, he feared to rely on the endless power of earth and was not sure whom else he dared to burden with it. Therefore the ring lay still hidden where his friend had placed it all those years ago. Maybe now was the time to bring forth the last of the rings and unite the powers of fire, water, air and earth, the powers of Narya, Vilya, Nenya and Cuilya once again as they might be the last chance for his race to survive the fourth age in Arda.

"Legolas?"

Aragorns voice brought him out of his thoughts,

"You say, that there was a fourth ring, but where is it, I have only ever heard of three Elven-Rings, what happened to the fourth?"

Legolas had to smile at his friends inquisitiveness which had not changed since he was still an infant and had wanted to touch everything - much like the young hobbit Pippin.

"When Celebrimbor forged the Rings he made one for each of the elements, each becoming more perfect, more complete and more powerful than the one before. The first one he made was Narya, the second Nenya and the third Vilya. Each of the three Rings matched the personality of the ones he intended to become their bearers and even though he asked the Lady Galadriel to choose to whom she gave the rings her choice matched his. Two of the rings have since then changed the hand that bears them but they still match as well as they did with their original bearers.

The last one he made, he made for himself and in it he put all his hope, his desperation and all the understanding any elf has for everything growing. It was because of the power that pulsed from Cuilya the moment he completed it that Sauron learned of the existence of the Elven-Rings but he believed Celebrimbor when he told him that the power he had felt came from his attempt to forge something that could contain the power of the elements. It was in the same night that he send Narya, Nenya and Vilya to the Lady Galadriel.

He did not dare to tell anyone of the fourth Ring and only when we saw each other more than a year after he had send the other rings away and Sauron had already left and Eregion was on the brink of destruction did he confess to me its existence. Celebrimbor asked me to bear the Ring as he already knew that he would not survive his beloved city but we both knew that the Ring could not be known till Sauron had followed his master for if he would have ever gained control over the Ring of Life..."

Abruptly Legolas changed the subject, forcing Aragorn to postpone any questions he may want to ask about the fourth Elven-Ring:

"Many years ago I befriended a man of your race, I had first met him when he was still young and we stayed friends till he died years later in my arms. He was the first of the edain I got to know more than just in passing and he soon became my best friend.

He was so curious, the first question he asked me after we had met not an hour before was why elves could not fly if we were really so light...he always asked me questions I could not answer...

We spend many years together and my father tried everything to persuade me that befriending a edain was not fitting for his son but nothing was able to separate us from each other so that after a time my father had to concede that maybe not all of the edain were as bad as he painted them to be.

When his mother had died when he was still a youth he spend weeks just trying to find a reason why she had died, as years later his father died he didn't ask for a reason anymore but instead how I could bear to know that he would die before me, that I would have to live eternity while I watched my mortal friends die... I couldn't give him an answer..."

Legolas trailed of, he still saw the resigned, guilty face of his friend before him. There had been no answer he could have given him: how would he survive his death? How had he survived Celebrimbors death or his Grandparents or his naneths or sisters? He could still not find an answer to that question, he just had survived but a small part of him had faded with them.

"I was the first he told when he had fallen in love, he told me even before his own father and he came to me when he planned to propose to her. It took me days till I had convinced him that the ring the smith had forged for him was just perfect and that it was not necessary to forge a new one.

Forty years after we had first met I sealed the bond between him and his wife and when his son was born not even a year later he was placed into my arms after his parents had held him.

That was the last time I saw him before his death. We had not planned to meet but the traces of Orcs I had followed were of the same Orcs that had ambushed his people.

I came to late to save him, but not to see him for a last time. With his dying breath he asked me to treat his son as I had treated him and be there for him when he needed me. It was an easy promise to give but I swore myself not to get attached to the small edain as he reminded me to much of the friend I had just lost - and that one day I would loose him also.

Years later the love of my friend asked me also to fulfil a last wish for her as she lay dying: the ring my friend had given her when he proposed to her should be given to her son when he was going to propose to the woman he loved."

Aragorn watched his friend as he told him of his best friend and wondered what had become of the small child and his descendants. Some part of him wondered how many more of the race of men the elf had befriended in his long life and if it would help his dying friend if he would see one of the descendants of his first edain-friend again - it there were any descendants.

While Aragorn was watching his friend he noticed that the elf's hands were nestling on the neck of his tunic from where he withdrew a long chain which he always wore. It was only then that Aragorn noticed the ring that dangled from the chain and realisation dawned him.

"I promised your mother that I would give this ring to you when you were about to propose to your love. You have still not proposed to Arwen, even though you swore each other more than forty years ago your eternal love.

Like your father you are afraid to take the last step, afraid that you are not the best that she could find - and like I did tell your father I now tell you that Arwen does not want anyone else, she has given you her heart those forty years ago and even if you should never propose to her it will always belong to you.

Aragorn, you are a king of men and even though you are Isildurs heir, that means also that you are the heir of Arathron and Elros. You can't define your line by the one who did wrong and forget all those who were great and just kings. Do not become like Isildur because you fear so much to become like him: learn from his mistakes!"

Carefully Legolas stood up and placed the ring he had taken from the chain into Aragorns hands.

"Your father proposed to your mother in a field of daisies... the garden that is nearly hidden by the streets of kings is a flower-garden, it is blooming at the moment...don't waste the time!"

With a mischievous smile on his face Legolas left his friend to ponder why he had still not proposed to the woman he loved since he had seen her more than sixty years ago.

As soon as he had left the part of the garden that Aragorn could oversee from his position the Elven Prince stumbled, no longer able to conceal his pain and grief. Only moments later Orophin was at his side and placed his arm around him to steady him.

"You should no longer walk around like this, my prince!"

he scolded his liege softly.

To tired to be angered by the way his friend had addressed him Legolas leaned heavily on the other elf:

"I fear to leave the garden and enter the palace once more...

Orophin, I fear that I will not have the strength left to come back, that when I lay down on my bed to rest I will not get up again. My strength is quickly waning and I don't know when it will be the last time that I will have enough strength to raise my head to look at the stars.

Every moment I feel how my life is leaving me, how it becomes harder to breath...

I came out here today in the hope that the trees could lend me some of their strength but even they are no longer able to help me, they told me that I am already to week as that I could survive their strength..."

Haltingly Legolas raised his head and turned it slightly to look back to the garden they had nearly left. Barely he suppressed the tears that threatened to flowed down his pale graceful face as all trees and even the bushes and flowers swayed and rustled in answer to his glance as if they had been caught in a heavy storm.

"Please help me to my room, Orophin."

Asked the dying prince of his companion as he laid his head heavily on the other elf's shoulder.


	13. It looked so inviting

Cale au Aratar 13

All over the palace people looked up from what they were doing as they heard the rustling of thousands of leaves, wondering why the trees were swaying in such a way when there was no storm. Their confusion only grew when nearly every elf that had come to Minas Tirith stood hurriedly up and excused themselves before rushing into the palace.

Gimli, who was sitting together with the hobbits and Luimîr on a small terrace sprang up as he saw the elf raise startled his head:

"What happened, why are the plants behaving this way?"

Defeated the elf answered him as he was hurrying inside:

"They are grieving for their child, it won't be long now before they announce his death."

Angered by the calm the elf showed at this announcement Gimli growled at him:

"How can you be so calm when Legolas is dying? Does he mean nothing to you?..."

Before he could continue Luimîr interrupted him by raising his hand:

"Peace Master Dwarf! I ask you not to think so little of me just because I do not show my grief as openly as you.

Legolas means nearly everything to me, even though he is "just" my nephew I love him like a second son as does my wife and my son loves him like an older brother. When Legolas fades not only his family and friends will be grieving but also the trees and every Eldar on this shores... soon all of us would be leaving Arda and all that would be left of us would be a faint memory...

Never think that I am not grieving for him though I deny to grief for him as long as there may be a chance that he might survive!"

With an almost pleading glance at the hobbits and Gimli Luimîr stood up to go as the other elves to the room of his nephew; hesitating for a moment Gimli stormed after the elf but turned after they had passed a few rooms and stomped to the garden where he had sat earlier with his friend - and where he had left him with Aragorn.

"What have you done now!"

he growled as soon as he spotted the king. Puzzled Aragorn looked at his friend, still wondering what had caused the unusual behaviour of the plants.

"What do you mean, my friend? Do you know what happened to the plants?"

he asked a question of his own but was brushed of by the dwarf.

"What I mean? You ask me what I mean?

Legolas is DYING!

You must have said something to him because he has said goodbye to all this blasted plants and now they are begging him to stay alive for just a few more weeks!

So what in Mordor have you said to him to cause him to give up! We could have still found a way to save him as long as he had the will to live!"

To angry to stand still Gimli was pacing in front of Aragorn while he spoke, only when he had ended did he turn around to the man and registered with satisfaction how pale he had become.

"Legolas is dying?"

choked Aragorn, not wanting to believe what the dwarf was telling him,

"But he was fine! He wasn't as quiet today as he had been when the ilsa tirnoë arrived, he had seemed fine since the coronation! How could he have been dying when he was able to join all the festivities and even dance most of the time?"

"Fine?"

Gimli exploded,

"You say he was fine? He was most of the day unconscious and could only join that blasted coronation because he was so heavily drugged that an Orc could have stood next to him without him noticing!

Ignorant man, doesn't even know when his best friend is dying in front off his own eyes.

So what were you talking about I wont stand that the princeling is dying just because you were not willing to help us save him!"

"He told me his age ad I asked him if he had known Eregion..."

"Eregion," interrupted him Gimli, "wasn't that the city were the Rings of power were forged?"

Aragorn nodded and continued:

"Yes, they were forged in Eregion by Celebrimbor and Sauron, that was before Sauron betrayed the elf's trust and Eregion was destroyed.

Legolas told me how the rings were forged and that he last saw his friend a few weeks before he died protecting the fourth of the Elven-Rings.

He then told me of my parents and fulfilled a promise he had given my mother on her death-bed."

Gimli frowned at his friend:

"You said fourth Elven-Ring, I believed that there were only three not four..."

still deep in though he turned to go to the elf's chambers:

"Come, laddie"

he spoke over his shoulder to Aragorn, his tone friendlier then just moments ago,

"We will have to ask the Lady Galadriel if the rings could be of any help and if she knows of a fourth ring!"

In silence they walked to the rooms of the prince of Eryn Lasgalen, Aragorn berating himself during the whole way how he could have been so blinded by his own happiness to not see that his best friend since he had been a small boy was dying.

Legolas had been there for him his whole life, and now that the elf needed HIM he had failed, he had ignored his friend and now he was dying!

When the ilsa tirnoë had arrived in Minas Tirith he had sworn himself that he would make it up to his friend that he had been so demanding, so arrogant during the last months but now he was not sure if there even was a way for him to repay his friend for all he had done to him.

Not only three months ago had he demanded of his friend that he should die if necessary to defend the people of Rohan - and now the elf was following that order, a order he had given him out of fear and despair. He knew, that it could not only be the poison that was killing his friend but had to be something else, something much more grieve and important.

Aragorn did not notice, that they had already entered their friends rooms and was therefor startled when he felt the slender hand of Arwen on his shoulder.

"Estel, he does not want for you to see him in so much pain... but I believe that you are the only one that can give him his hope back, he still has his love but his hope is lost."

Just as Arwen wanted to stir her beloved into Legolas bedroom they were stopped by the voices of Lady Galadriel and Mithrandir.

"Aragorn, Gimli told us that you know something of a fourth ring?"

Gandalf asked the edain, not fully sharing the dwarf's enthusiasm.

"Legolas told me that Celebrimbor forged first Narya, than Vilya and Nenya and that each Ring was more powerful than the one before, Cuilya was the most powerful and that it was its completion that caught Saurons eye as it pulsed with power.

He said that Celebrimbor sent Narya, Nenya and Vilya in the same night to you, my Lady but that he kept Cuilya for himself as he had planned and because he did not dare to burden someone else with the power it possessed.

Legolas last saw him two weeks before Eregion was destroyed and Celebrimbor asked Legolas to bear the fourth Ring but as both knew that no one could bear it till Sauron was destroyed he hid it somewhere shortly before his death....

I believe that Legolas knows where the Ring is hidden, but could it really be of any help to him?"

Slowly Galadriel shook her head:

"No, if Celebrimbor asked him to become the next bearer of Cuilya than no-one else can bear it till Legolas does choose someone else and he is in no condition to think of something like that. When he is once again able to enjoy the world around him there will be a time to ask him of the fourth ring but not now."

"You mean there is still hope, my Lady?"

Aragorn questioned, with a soft smile in direction of her granddaughter she answered him:

"There is always hope! We are just not always able to see it and then someone has to show it to us...

Legolas believes that he has lost his hope, show him that he is still alive, Ellessar!"

She added, he warm eyes firmly boring into his own before she turned to her son in law who had just entered the sitting room from the bedroom.

"He is sleeping, to restless to be in a heeling sleep but to deep for it to be natural...

The trees are still begging him to hold on just for a little longer but they are already grieving for their prince...

There is nothing more we can do for him, we will loose him if not a miracle happens..."

Reported the Lord of Imladris after he had sat down with a sigh. With thoughtful faces did the three elves, the Istari and the dwarf observe how Aragorn stepped closer to the open door of his friends bedroom till he went through.

The light in the room seemed dimmed, even though the room had wide open windows through which the sun was shining. On the wall opposite to the door stood the bed, next to which to chairs were placed, occupied by King Thranduil and Lady Althilwen, Legolas father and betrothed. Legolas himself was lying in the bed, pale and motionless.

It was by far no the first time that Aragorn had seen Legolas sleeping or wounded, but never had his friend seemed so lost, so helpless. As he regarded the sleeping elf he understood for the first time why someone could mistake the prince of Eryn Lasgalen for weak: lying on the bed, nearer to death as to life he looked so frail, so delicate as a new born child would, as if unable to raise even the lightest weapon or to fight much less be the victor of uncounted battles... No, the elf he saw before him seemed more suited in a library or singing in a hall of fire - as were the other elves that occupied the room.

He had grown up among elves and had known all his life how strong this seemingly frail creatures really were, and yet now that he had seen the elves at their strongest, willing to sacrifice their immortality for the sake of the mortals he had to learn that no matter how strong and battle-proof they were they really were just as fragile as some people thought.

While they could survive almost any wound that was given to them by a weapon they would die if their heart was broken by the death of a loved one or a thoughtless action.

Aragorn had of course always known this fact but only now did he understand what it meant, what it meant when an immortal being was fading, not because he was slain in battle but because his heart was broken and he lost all will to live. Without a doubt Aragorn knew that this was the fate that awaited his beloved Arwen just because she loved him, a mortal.

As he sat down onto a chair that one of the guards had placed for him next to Althilwens and he was looking into the pale face of his best friend and saw the closed eyes, the eyes that were so vivid blue and normally so full of life did he realise what Elrond and Gimli already knew: he was responsible for Legolas fading, it was him who broke the heart of this wonderful elf.

He had asked of him to die for him who had never done anything important for him. Legolas had been there for his family on more than one occasion as he had learned earlier that day - and what had he done for the elf? Nothing! He had only ever asked but had never given, he had asked of Legolas to keep Gollum safe, to guard this creature who had caused with his escape four warriors their life and then he had asked of the elf to die, had treated him as if he were a coward when he could have already left Middle Earth and sail to the safety of the Undying Lands.

It took a while before Aragorn felt the pressure of a hand on his arm and came out of his thoughts.

"What worries you, Estel?"

the tired voice of his friend asked him, filling his heart at the same time with happiness and guilt.

"You, you worry me, Legolas! I had never thought that I could loose you, that one day you would not be there...

Why didn't you tell me that you were wounded? Why did you fight when you knew that it would worsen your wound?"

Aragorn asked, his voice thick with suppressed tears. Softly the elf was caressing the hand of his younger friend as he answered him.

"You had other things to do, to think of, it would have made no difference for me, the only way to treat Morgoths Tear is a poison that needs over a months time to be made, there would have been nothing you could have done for me but it could have made the difference in this war. How would you have acted if you had known that I was wounded, would you have been able to concentrate fully on the battles as was necessary or would your thoughts have strayed to me?

Believe me when I say that it was better this way, Aragorn."

Even though Aragorn knew that he was at least partly responsible for the state his friend was in he was not able to say something in front of so many others, others among which was not only the father of the wounded but also his own foster-brothers. And of what use would it be if he apologised to his friend? What good could such an apology do? Wouldn't it be only spoken to ease his conscious?

It were for this reasons that Aragorn didn't apologise for his past behaviour but asked his friend instead how he had met his father.

"It was early spring when we first met, he was just four years old and had run away from his parents and the other rangers who were on their way to Laketown to prove to them that he was brave and strong by slaying one of the giant spiders as he thought that they couldn't be much bigger than the normal spiders he knew.

When I found him he was tangled in a web and a spider was right before him... After I had shot the spider and cut him free he thanked me, looked me over and after realising that I was an elf he asked me why elves couldn't fly as his father, your grandfather had told him how light and graceful we Eldar are.

As he had run away in the night and had managed to get astoundingly far into the woods it was early morning when we reached the camp where they were about to sent search parties after him..."

Legolas trailed of, a smile on his face as he remembered how he had met Arathron: on their way back to the camp the small child had fallen asleep in his arms, his arms placed around his neck and his head resting on his shoulder. His family had been so relieved to have their son back that they didn't realise at first that Legolas had called him the next in the line of Elros. Only when he had shared their breakfast did they realise that he knew who they were and whom he had saved.

As they told him that they were on their way to Laketown he invited them to his fathers palace, knowing very well how his father thought of the edain, especially Isildur and his heirs, in his mind Isildurs weakness had made his own fathers death needless. But as soon as they had entered the throne room and the small boy whom Legolas had once again been carrying demanded to be set down and marched right up to Thranduil and climbed onto his lap because it looked so inviting as he claimed, the Elven Kings heart softened a little bit towards the guests of his son.

Legolas had always known that his father wished for grandchildren but only after he had met Arathron did he himself wish for a child, a child that would just climb onto the lap of one of the most feared kings because it looked so inviting.

"Your father was just as respect-less and curious as a child as you have been, Estel... the first time he met my father he climbed onto his lap because it looked so comfortable, just like you were fascinated by my hair he was fascinated with my father and followed him for a day around till he found that I was more exciting: no child finds the duties of a king exciting, it was my boredom after one day spend with my grandfather and his advisors that drove me into the armoury where I found the first weapon, a bow, that I liked."

Thranduil also had to smile as he remembered that day, how his son had entered his throne-room, a small boy in his arms... he had looked so content, so happy... How much time had past by since that day... and now he was sitting with his son, his sons betrothed and the son of the small boy from all those years ago on the dying bed of his son.

He didn't have the illusion that his son would survive and he wasn't even sure that he wished for his son to survive, not if that meant that Legolas had to live with a broken heart like he himself did for now almost three millennia...

When his little Greenleaf had been born all had feared for the life of the child of the crown prince. Never before had a child of the Eldar looked so frail and weak, even now his son looked more delicate than most of the other First Born. Legolas and himself shared the same features and yet did his son look compared to him like a christal-figurine.

It had not wondered him when Erenion had mistaken Legolas for an elleth when he had first met the twelve-year old prince as Legolas was even more frail as Celebrian, Galadriels and Celeborns first daughter who was only a few years older than his son. Of course had he never told his son that he feared for his life every time he played with other children of his age a little more roughly than he would have wished. His heart had nearly stopped when his small son, barely older than ten years had stolen into the armoury after he had spend a day at Orophers court with the king and his advisers and came back with one of their finely crafted smaller bows. Even though his son had been able to shoot the bow he wished that Legolas would never pick up a weapon again as it made him look even frailer than usually.

In spite of his seemingly fragile body Legolas had fast become one of Greenwood best warriors and the realms best archer. There was no one in Arda who was - had been - able to best the young prince with a bow. After he had returned the first time from Eregion he had had three new playthings: a pair of white fighting knives and a double-blade. Both had been forged by Celebrimbor himself out of Mithril from Moria and ivory from Harad. Never in his life had Legolas carried a normal elven sword and even when he went to battle he carried only his bow and his twin-knives. He seldomly fought with his double-blade as it demanded room to be wielded, room he normally didn't have while fighting against enemies.

Even though fighting-knives were common for the Avari and their use came as natural to them as the use of a bow to the Woodelves, he feared every time when his son left the palace without a sword: the range of a sword was much wider than that of his sons knives, letting the enemies closer to his beloved child.


	14. Morgoths tears

Cale au Aratar 14

Not soon after Legolas had spoken of his friend Arathron did exhaustion force him to close his eyes and even though his body demanded for him to rest was his mind still refreshed from the short slumber he had just had.

Was this how his life would end he asked himself? Was this really the end of someone who was immortal? He knew the theory of what he was experiencing, what happened to those who died of Morgoths Tears - or a broken heart - and yet he had even days ago not been able to apply this theories on himself. Morgoths Tears were slowly eating their way through his body, travelling from the wound to all parts of his body, first the flesh around the wound and then slowly to every other part. His whole body felt as if it was continuously wounded and tortured but he could still tell how far the poison in itself had come: he knew that it had nearly reached his lungs and that he soon would have great difficulties to breath... but it would be worse when the poison reached his heart, every heartbeat would become torture to a point where he would seek his own death. It was not clear to him if that was worse than what would happen when the poison finally reached his brain and he would suffer under illusions till he would no longer be able to recognise his own family and under the uncontrollable urge to seek a mate.

Only four of Morgoths captives had survived this torture and had been able to flee his stronghold before he was able to force them reproduce. Only one of them had survived the search for a possible antidote - not because one was found but because he had taken in his desperation an other poison that would have killed him if he had not been found. This poison, Sereg-Nen, Blood-Water, contained not only the water of the enchanted river that flowed through his homeland but also the poisonous sap of different plants. It was this poison that Elladan had given him when they had arrived in Minas Tirith: it would slowly drive Morgoths Tears out of his body as it was normally pressing the blood out of its victims, leaving a dry shell. While there was no antidote for Morgoths Tears there was an antidote for Sereg-Nen that he could take as soon as the other poison had left his body.

But while both poisons were painful as was the wound the arrow had left he felt most of the time almost none of them. All he could feel was the pain his breaking heart caused. If he should describe the pain to anyone he would say that it felt at first as if every small wound his heart had received over the long years of his life and that had already scarred were breaking open again, bleeding heavier than when he had received them. New wounds were opening fast, till his heart broke apart. His fathers heart had broken when he had lost so many of his family, his wife and youngest child included. Had it not been for him his father would have faded those years ago: he was the band that held all the broken pieces of his fathers heart together, should he die his fathers heart would break, taking the kings life.

Long ago, when his fathers heart had broken he had promised him - and himself - that he would not fight for his life should his heart ever break as not to become like his father, unable to express other emotions than pain and anger. Yet he felt that he would not be able to keep this promise, how could he just give up when he knew that it was not only his own life that he would be ending but also the life of his father and his beloved Althilwen? How could he just give up when he knew that so many would follow him if not to Namos halls than to Valinor? Celeborn and Galadriel would surly not stay when also the heart of their second daughter had broken and most if not all Eldar from Lothlorien would follow them - as would most of Eryn Lasgalen when both their Prince and King had faded.

Yet even though he still had the wish to fight for his life, to survive, he knew that that will would soon fade. The more Morgoths Tears spread through his body and the more time went by since his heart had started to break the more his will to live would fade. He was still able to find joy in the face and voice, even the sole presence of his beloved and his family and friends but he already felt how that joy lessened and was replaced by resignation and pain. Pain that he would leave them, worse yet that he would cause them pain and even their death.

Slowly his mind registered the soft strokes of a thumb on his hand and the broken breathing that indicated that the person was trying to suppress their tears - and failing.

"Quildë Estel, Quildë" (Hush Estel, Hush)

he spoke without opening his eyes, knowing that it was Aragorn who was stroking his hand. Slowly he opened his eyes, their blue deeper than before they had left Imladris.

"Don't grieve Estel! ...

Please don't grieve."

Legolas added softly while he looked intently at the king of Gondor before he turned his eyes to look at Althilwen who stood after a soft nod up and indicated to his father and the ilsa tirnoë to follow her out of the room, at the door she turned again to look at her betrothed. With a heavy heart she closed the door behind her. It seemed to have been only the day before that she had met him and yet more than three millennia had past since then.

He had already courted her for more than six centuries when he finally proposed: it had been already late evening when he had waited for her like he often did at her talan, asking her if she would take a walk with him. As soon as she had recognised the direction he was taking she had wanted to turn back because although she loved him with all her heart she was not willing to follow him to one of the smaller hot springs of her home. Only when he insured her that he just wanted to show her something - and nothing more - did she follow him.

That was the only promise he ever broke after he had given it to her: when they had reached the spring that was in a small clearing he asked her to lay down and look up at the sky. The constellation she saw there made her almost forget where and with whom she was, four stars were forming a line, Eärendil pointing directly down on them. It was beautiful and she had to agree with him, nowhere in Arda or even there in her home Lothlorien would this miracle have been as impressive as it was in that small clearing.

After a while she had noticed that Legolas had not lain down beside her but was watching her instead of the sky, the love she saw in his eyes was overwhelming and she could have cried out of joy when he asked her to spend the rest of eternity at his side as his wife and queen.

Years later Legolas had confessed that he hadn't asked her sooner to marry him because he had hoped for the blessing of the Valar, Eärendil had pointed him out that clearing and the right day the day they had first met and since than he had known that he had to wait for the day Eärendil would shine on the spring before he could propose her. Their wedding had been planned for the following summer but Saurons darkness spread to that time through Arda and they had postponed their wedding to a time after the impending battle when it would be safer.

Only it never became safer, the battle was won by the free people of Middle Earth but the Ring of Power survived and whit him Saurons spirit, a spirit who knew of the existence of an heir of Erenion, the High King Gil-Galad, who was far more powerful than any other elf before him. The Light of the Valar, in one person united the blessing the Valar were giving the First Born. To protect her and his family Legolas had ordered that his identity should be kept secret from everyone who was not one of the Eldar and together they had decided that they should only wed when the One Ring was found and destroyed.

How could they have known that the destruction of the Ring would mean for Legolas his end? They had known since the Rings creation that the Ring had no power over him - but that while it had no ability to manipulate his mind and heart it had the power to poison his body.

Irmo had warned him in a dream, to never touch the Ring or anything else that was created by the Herald Morgoths. Legolas had never told her the reason for that warning as he kept almost everything that concerned his friend Celebrimbor from her and everyone else. She herself had never met Celebrimbor but she knew that her father, who had once been the smiths best friend was preferring even now more than four thousand years not to speak of him.

Through Elrond, her brother in law she and her sister Celebrian had finally learned the reason for their fathers behaviour: both Celeborn and Celebrimbor had fallen in love with her mother and even after she had sealed the bond with their father did Celebrimbor woe her, still hoping that she would change her mind and turn to him.

With surprise Althilwen noticed that not only Elrond and Mithrandir but also her parents -even her father - were talking about Celebrimbor; upon seeing her and king Thranduil enter they bid them to come over to them.

"Thranduil, did Legolas ever spoke to you of his last visit in Eregion, about the last time he saw Celebrimbor?"

addressed Mithrandir as soon as they had reached their group. Puzzled by the question Thranduil thought back to the day Legolas and his guards had returned from the falling city; he remembered that Legolas had been even more silent and thoughtful than ever before and had said nothing of his visit.

"No, Legolas never spoke of his last visit to Eregion... but a few days after he returned, we were just eating our evening-meal, did he pause, he was just raising a goblet of red wine to his lips. Unseeingly he was staring before him, a band of sweat on his brow his whole body shaking. Suddenly with a shout of pain his fingers broke the stem of his silver-goblet, spilling wine all over him...

It looked as if someone had slit his throat and his blood were running down his body...

He was crying, silently tears were running down his cheeks and all he said was: Eregion and its master have fallen, Celebrimbor is dead

Since that day Legolas has to my knowledge spoken of neither Eregion nor Celebrimbor."

During Thranduils account Galadriel had paled and only on the bidding of the others did she finally speak:

"He has seen Eregion fall, he has seen Celebrimbor being slaughtered... His throat was slit open, the hilt of the sword in his hand broken..."

"But today he broke his silence, he has spoken to Aragorn of a fourth ring, a ring of earth, of life..."

Elrond picked up as his mother in law fell silent. Hope flickered over the faces of Thranduil and Althilwen as they heard this news, a fourth ring, could it help their son, their betrothed?

Sensing their thought Mithrandir dampened their hopes,

"We do not know if a fourth ring would be able to help him - and Legolas is the only one who knows where it is hidden. Worse yet, as Legolas told Aragorn Celebrimbor created the ring for himself and later asked Legolas to be its bearer... Legolas would be the only one who could use the ring till he chose an other bearer, something he is not able to do at the moment!"

"So there is nothing the Rings of Power can do for him?"

Althilwen spoke almost to herself, hope slowly leaving her.

Placing an reassuring hand on her daughters shoulder Galadriel spoke:

"Althilwen, you know that the Rings have been slowly loosing their power and now that the Master Ring Sauron created is destroyed we don't know if they have any power left - but even if we can't use the Rings to help Legolas we won't give up. There is still life in him and as long as there is life there is hope!"

Yes, thought Galadriel, she would not give up to search for a way to help Legolas, her future son in law, the only surviving child of Thranduil, Legolas - Luin-Nor her prince, her king.

She had seen to many die, her family, her friends... she would not allow her second daughter the pain of a breaking heart. She had not been able to save her first daughter from that pain, she had not been able to prevent Celebrians capture and torture.

Even if she knew that neither of the three Rings of Power they possessed could do anything to help Legolas did it not mean that they would not try to use them. Maybe with the help of Cuilya they could help Legolas but none of them knew where her old friend Celebrimbor had hidden the fourth ring, no-one but Legolas. The pain that radiated from all those in this chambers was almost tangible, for all in the room Legolas was a friend, a son, a nephew, a loved one and every one of them would give their life for him - and yet so far none of them had been able to help him.

When Elrond had had the vision in which the Valar told him of a heir of Erenion she had been shocked. Not just because she feared the death of Erenion and Elrond whom she had both raised as her own children but also because she feared for the child who was burdened in that way. Erenion had often suffered under the responsibility he carried and often it was only his strong will who allowed him to carry on with his duties; how should a child grow up knowing that one day he would rule over all of the First Born, worse yet be the chosen one to unite the Eldar and give them once again the choice between the Elven-home and Arda - a choice the Valar had taken from them after the betrayal of the Noldo, her ancestors.

Should Legolas, Luin-Nor, die it would not only be a personal tragedy but would also mean the end of the First Born on Arda as they all would flee that shores to Valinor, hoping to be able to forget their former home as they would never again be able to return.

While his family and friends were trying to find a way to save him, Legolas was trying to lessen the grief of the man he loved like a son, pain filled him, and he felt his heart bleeding faster at the thought that he was the one who caused the pain and grief, the tears that were flowing down the edains face.

"Quildë, Estel, quildë."


	15. I saw Arathron

Cale au Aratar 15

He did not know what he could say to ease Aragorns pain and yet he knew that he had to say something: his little Estel was hurting, he could feel the pain that radiated from the edain – and yet he could not bring himself to do more than patting the kings hand.

For moments amusement found its way into his breaking heart, he had been born a prince, heir of not only the king of the Woodland Realm and the Avari but also heir of the High King, chosen by the Valar themselves – and yet here he lay, unable to comfort the man he thought of as his son. Death, he realised not for the first time, made him wordless. So many had he seen fall, for so many had he grieved, still grieved, but only now, that he himself was dying did he understand why he was unable to talk about his grief: there were no words to describe the pain, not his own and not anybody else.

When they heard in Lothlorien the Mourning for Gandalf, Merry had asked him to translate it and he had told him that he was unable to do so because for him the pain was still to near – what he had not told the hobbit was that he was not unable to translate it because he had no way of expressing the pain, the love that was carried by the voices but because he was not able to understand them. His heart had known what the Lament said, yet his mind had not been able to name those feelings, those memories. He knew, that if he would live he would someday sing a Lament for both Aragorn and Arwen, a Lament which words he would not be able to recall but which meaning he would remember till the end of time.

Now that he knew that Mithrandir was alive the words of the Lament slowly came to him – yet the pain remained. Nothing besides death or his departure from this shores could ease that pain.

It was ironic that it were the Eldar, the strongest of the races of Arda, that were easiest to kill; while it was true that the edain could also die of a broken heart most of them were able to live on and even recover, yet the First Born who survived nearly everything else and were not even able to fall ill died from a simple thing like a broken heart.

"Legolas"

he could hear the panic and pain in Aragorns voice, a panic he could not understand. Faster than his health allowed him he opened his eyes which he had previously closed in exhaustion. Slowly he realised that that had to be the reason for his friends panic, Aragorn was not used to see him with closed eyes.

"It is nothing, my friend – I was merely resting my eyes..."

Legolas felt the strong urge to allow his eyes to slid close again, it was easier to think when he didn't have to concentrate on what his eyes should see. Only moments passed while he looked at Aragorn before his friend changed before his eyes into an other even more familiar face, a face he hadn't seen in more than eighty years. Just as he wanted to open his mouth to whisper his friends name did he realise that the person he believed to see was long since dead and before him sat not Arathron but his son Aragorn.

Fighting the despair that threatened to settle in his mind he bid Aragorn to bring Elrond to him and to find Arwen and propose to her. Puzzled and worried Aragorn stood up and went for the door, turning back he had to see that his friends eyes were once again closed.

Only when a cool hand touched his forehead did Legolas open his eyes, not even startled anymore that he had not heard the older elf enter the room.

"Aragorn told me that you wanted to see me?"

Elrond trailed off as he sat down, his eyes never leaving the tired blue eyes of his prince; for Legolas to ask for a healer meant that he was even weaker than he already knew.

"When I looked at Aragorn I didn't see him, I saw Arathron... And my heart knew no doubt that it was really Arathron. I am afraid, I fear that I will forget my friends, all those I didn't know before..."

A tear slid down the pale cheeks of the Elven prince as he told the Lord of Imladris of what had happened mere moments ago. Pain like he had only known when his wife had left his side filled Lord Elronds heart as he heard what happened to the son of his best friend: he was loosing himself, slowly past and present would merge, friends and family would be mistaken for foes... there was nothing he could do to help Legolas, to help Luin Nor his prince – nothing but drugging him into oblivion.

Both, Morgoths Tears and his breaking heart caused his mind to see false images, their combination only sped the process up – as did Aragorns behaviour. He knew that there was nothing he could do to aid the younger elf and yet his heart longed for nothing more.

Without a word he sat down besides the other elf on the bed and took him into his arms, spending him through the contact the reassurance that he could not give with words. Neither of them knew how long they had sat together this way when Elrond begun finally to speak.

"Aragorn told us of Celebrimbors last work, I always wondered why he had made only three rings instead of four..."

he trailed of, not really expecting the elf in his arms to answer him but after a while Legolas spoke, his voice even fainter than before.

"He had not planned to make Cuilya, he had only planned to make one ring, one ring as a gift for Galadriel but when he had finished the first he knew that he could do better, make a ring that suited her...for fire didn't suit her. While he forged the second ring he thought of her and the ring became the ring of water, eternal, graceful...

The last one was made for Erenion, unpredictable and proud... he told me when I last saw him that he knew that someday you would be its bearer.

Never did he expect that Cuilya would become so strong, so all consuming. Only when he died did he tell me of what he thought while forging it, what made Cuilya the ring of life and not of earth as he had intended it to be."

A shudder travelled through Legolas body as he thought of the last moments of his friends life: Celebrimbor had been surrounded, surrounded by Orcs and men alike, his only solace in his last moments the knowledge that Legolas was there with him, not in body but in mind and spirit.

In a near whisper he continued,

"He thought of me, how we had met and he had wished that I were his son, his and Galadriels. He forged it with the thought of the trees, of the earth, the water and the air and how it was all living under the guidance of the Valar... You know that he always liked to tease me about my name and that he even sometimes called me Lass whenever he wanted to embarrass me... He knew that I was the Cale au Aratar even before I had told him about my destiny and he was determined to make me a warrior worth of the Valars gift.

When I last visited him he told me of the rings and who would bear them, he confessed that he had made the last ring for himself but that when he had finished it he knew that he would never bear it but that it was meant for me..."

He could not cry for his dead friend, he had spend all the tears he could spare for him when he had fallen together with his beloved Eregion. There had been nothing he could do to ease his friends pain when his troth was slid and his life was flowing out of him together with his blood, nothing but be there for him in his last moments.

Celebrimbor had initiated this link they had shared only a few times before that moment, as soon as he had managed to break free from the falling city in order to hide his most glorious and dangerous work. Yes, Legolas knew the exact location where Cuilya was buried and what guarded it – or had guarded it. The creature that had followed Celebrimbors bidding was now death, felled by Aragorns and Boromirs swords and his own arrows. Wasn't it ironic that the very same creature that was guarding the most powerful of the Elven rings had attacked the one person that carried the One Ring of Sauron?

It had pained him to kill the beast that was carrying through one of the last bidding of his friend but he had sworn to protect Frodo and he knew that there was no arguing with the creature: it had sworn to protect Cuilya from anyone who dared to come near it and Frodo had accidentally stepped into the water, waking the guardian. He wondered if he should have warned the fellowship of the guardian but that would have meant to expose his knowledge of Cuilya to a time where he did not know the outcome of their mission and any knowledge of the Fourth Elven Ring in the hand of Sauron would have meant more destruction than his regaining power over the One Ring.

Elrond had listened silently as his prince told him the history of the Elven Rings, he himself had known Celebrimbor for many years but they had never shared anything as close as Legolas and the smith. Even Celeborn had been closer to the smith than he himself – at least before he had met those two. Both were several millennia older than the Lord of Imladris and were already no longer the close friends they had once been when he came in the care of Celeborn and Galadriel. He knew that his opinion on Celebrimbor had always been biased, based on the fact that he had first met him while he was in the presence of only Lord Celeborn and his foster father had been more than cold to the other elf. When he had later asked the Lord of Lorien why he had behaved that way he had been told the story of how their friendship had been broken by the smith.

Legolas had been still young when he had first met the greatest Elven smith and had been immediately fascinated by him -–as was the older elf with the young prince. During this first stay of Legolas in Eregion Celebrimbor had forged for him Legolas two famed White fighting knives and his even more magnificent Double Blade. Over the years all of Celebrimbors most precious works were either for Galadriel – and later her daughters – or Legolas. The crown Legolas would be wearing at his coronation was also forged by Celebrimbor: fifteen Strands of Mithril entwined with one strand of gold, one for each of the Valar and the golden one for Legolas. The crown was more than beautiful, even the crowns he had made for Galadriel could not compete.

He had often wondered if Celebrimbor had been perhaps a seer but every time that thought entered his mind he discarded it with the notion that Celebrimbor had not recognised Sauron for whom he really was and had shared his secrets with him – and yet he could not rid himself of that idea.

Absentmindedly he was stroking Legolas hair, wondering what he could do to help easing the younger ones pain.

"Cuilya is buried in the water next to the West gate of Moria, we slew its guardian when we entered Moria... I give you the permission to retrieve it should you desire so but I warn you of its power, it is even greater than Vilyas. It is the key to the power of the other three rings."

Legolas trailed off, to tired to carry on. He knew that there was almost no chance left for him to survive even till his coronation – a coronation that he had foolishly postponed till the time the One Ring was destroyed. Looking back now he knew that he had made two major mistakes during his life: he should have allowed for his coronation to take place as soon as the Last Alliance was over but most of all he should not have waited to marry his beloved Althilwen. More than anything else did he regret all those time he had wasted, time he could have spend at her side.

Abruptly Elrond stopped stroking Legolas hair as he came to a conclusion: he would find the Fourth Ring before it was to late for Legolas, his heart told him that with the help of Cuilya they could at least partly heal their friend and prince and give him more time – time that could be used by Aragorn to unbreak his heart.

"Legolas, I will go for the ring... but promise me that you will still be alive when I return, promise me you will not fade before I have returned to you and we had the chance to try the rings!"

Gone was the kind caring Lord of Imladris, replaced by the Herald of the last High King and heir to Luin Nor as long as he had no children. To weak to protest Legolas simply agreed to Lord Elronds request, hoping that he would be able to keep it. With a haste that belied the endless days of wakefulness and worry he had endured but portrayed his devotion to his prince Elrond left Minas Tirith within an hour of his conversation with Legolas on the back of Shadowfax. He knew that he had not a moment to spare if he was intend on saving the High Prince.


	16. Celebrimbor

Wow, I had the first reviewer that wanted me to off our dear Legolas! At the moment I can't promise either way, I will decide if he will lives when I come to that point!

This chapter may be a bit confusing at points so here a short explanation: in the last chapter I hinted that Legolas is slowly (ok not so slowly) loosing himself, this continues during this chapter.

**Cale au Aratar 16**

Legolas mind barely registered Lord Elronds words or his leaving, his thoughts were far away in a place were he did not know the meaning of pain.

He was walking in a garden, surrounded by thousands of flowers, it was his favourite garden in all of Lothlorien and it had been many years since he had last had the possibility to venture there. Yet his peace was shattered as he felt that he was not alone in his sanctuary. It had taken him only moments to find the one whose presence had disturbed his peace. Not far from him yet concealed by one of the smaller Mallorn sat a maiden, no not a maiden she was still a child.

_Silver hair swayed around her head and upper body and even though he could not see her face he was drawn to her. Hesitant to break her peace he walked slowly over to her, not sure what he expected to find, only knowing that he had to see her face and hear her voice. Yet before he had been able to reach her she had turned around and he felt unable to move. As she spoke his mind was not able to process the words but marvelled instead her beauty and the softness of her voice._

He felt her presence even then – and slowly he remembered that he was not in that garden, that he was not even in Lothlorien but in his chambers in Minas Tirith. She was in his room, he could feel her presence, her touch and he allowed himself to fall back into his memories.

_Never before had he been in a city made out of stone, a city inhabited by both edain and Eldar, though the Eldar were clearly the majority. He and his guards – consisting out of both Avari and Sindar – were welcomed at the gates of the city by a regal looking silver-haired elf who had an expression that told them clearly that he had better things to do than welcoming some (spoilt) prince._

_Yet it had taken merely moments after he had welcomed the group that he seemed to change his mind about the young prince. Maybe it was Legolas fascination with the cloak-clasps the Noldo wore or something else but by the time they reached the Noldos home they had become friends. Only a few days after their arrival Celebrimbor had called him into his workroom where he measured him for a crown and when Legolas had asked why he needed a new crown the older elf had looked at him as if he were dumb before explaining slowly that the Cale au Aratar needed a fitting crown and not something any prince would wear. That had also been the first time the smith dared to shorten his name to its last syllable, a sacrilege no elf dared to commit._

_No-one who had met Celebrimbor would deny that he was the most untypical elf that ever walked Arda: not only was he fascinated by jewels like some other elves – namely the Sindar – but he delighted in making them. It had been for Celebrimbor that for a few centuries the relationship between dwarfs and elfs had been civil, even friendly. During that first days they had talked for endless hours while Celebrimbor was working first on the crown and then later on a pair of fighting knives for he knew of the preference of the Avari for knifes._

_It had been during one of those conversations that Celebrimbor called him his son. When Legolas had asked him what he meant he had laughed mournfully and had answered him that he loved the wife of someone else and the son of even another, that he was doomed to recognise and create beauty and wisdom but that he would never possess either of it. Legolas had not known what he should say to the distraught older elf, he had overheard his parents talking before that journey how the friendship of Celeborn and Celebrimbor had broken because they both loved Galadriel and that even because he had chosen Celeborn Celebrimbor would not give up on her._

After that confession he hadn't seen the smith for several days as he had closed himself off in his smithy allowing no-one to enter. When he had come out he carried the most beautiful weapon the young prince had ever seen: a double-blade, the blades forged out of Mithril, etched into the metal were leaves and flames, circling, touching each other. Like the handle of the two fighting knives the handle of the double-blade was made out of polished ivory, embedded with gold and blue and green jewels that were polished in such a way that they didn't stand out from the rest of the handle when touched. Together with the gold they formed the same ornament as the etchings in the blades only this time the ornaments were coloured: green leaves and blue flames: Legolas and Luin Nor, his two destinies, his two identities.

_Celebrimbor had handed him the weapon with the words: "I may never possess either of you but I can spoil and love you as if I did!". Not long after that afternoon the connection between them had opened after Legolas had told him that he may not be his father by blood but he would have had nothing against it if he had been. From that moment on they had become as close as father and son could ever be, they were not of the same blood and Celebrimbor did not replace Thranduil as Legolas actual father but whenever Legolas visited Celebrimbor from then on did the older elf assume the role of his father. No-one besides them was aware of the depth of their relationship, no-one knew that the moment Celebrimbor died he had lost a man he loved just as much and in the same way as his own father._

_No-one besides him was aware of the origin of Celebrimbors extraordinary gift as a smith, no-one besides himself had known that like Legolas he had given an oath to Aule, father of the dwarfs. He had told Legolas when the younger had mentioned his own oath – but different from the younger ones oath his could not be fulfilled._

_In exchange for his unsurpassed skill as a smith he had given up his ability to fit in with his own race: in all but soul and body he had become like one of Aules children, yet his heart forever yearned to be like one of his own race. Forever he would be remembered as the one who was the greatest smith the race of the Eldar had ever seen – and the one who was even though he was born as an Eldar not truly one of them._

_Most thought of him as respectless and arrogant, even more so those who knew of his love to Galadriel or his habit of shortening the name of their prince. At first Legolas had been offended to be called Lass by his ""second Father" but after a time he had come to love the teasing of the older elf and had returned it in kind. He missed their quarrel almost as much as Celebrimbor himself._

_But you have Gimli._

A thought, no not a thought but an consolation whispered in the voice of his long lost friend flickered through his memories and he called out in the tongue of his friend that had the same biting wit Celebrimbor had possessed.

They are both children Aules, one by blood and one by oath. They would get along so well, both more fascinated with stones than with stars – and both love Galadriel and will never gain her.

Thranduil had returned to the side of his son as soon as Elrond had left the room, not needing to look in his friends eyes to know that his son was fast fading. Yet, even though he had almost no doubt left that his beloved child would fade he could not give up on his hope that his son would live. Were he to give up that hope he would fade even before his son and he knew that his son needed him now more that ever before. Even though he was proud that his son was the Cale au Aratar he wished that it had been someone else. His son would not be lying there on his bed, dying from a poison that had been believed forgotten if he had not been their promised Light.

As soon as he had learned who was responsible for his sons suffering he had ordered his guards to hunt down the traitor, the one who had caused with his treacherously so much pain to their prince. Mithrandir may not have known it when he broke Sarumans staff, but with that action, casting him out of the White Order he allowed the Eldar to persecute the traitor after their own laws and Saruman had broken three of the few laws that called for a death penalty: he had recreated Morgoths tears, the most terrible of poisons, he had attempted to kill the Cale au Aratar and even worse he had tried to turn him.

Nothing was a greater crime in the eyes of the Eldar than to turn one of them into a creature Morgoths, into an Orc; and to try to commit that crime on their prince... Eru may have mercy with the former Istar for they wouldn't have. Everyone believed the Eldar to be graceful, strong – and forgiving. Only few knew that they may be the first two but certainly not the third. The Eldar were hard to scorn but if you had managed to direct their wrath to you than you would be spared no mercy and Saruman had not only caught the wrath of one of them but of their whole race, not even the gentlest of the Eldar would be willing to grant him mercy after what he had done. No, Saruman would rue the day he had followed the call of the Valar to help guard Arda.

Thranduils dark thoughts were interrupted as he heard his son call out in the tongue of the dwarfs. As much as he disliked Aules children he had known since his sons early childhood that his son was fascinated by them, more even that he tried to befriend them and if he had to chose between his son and his dislike for dwarfs he would always chose his son.

Gracefully the king of Eryn Lasgalen vacated the chair by his sons bed and walked over to the door after motioning to his brother in law to place the second empty chair next to the one he had occupied moments before. For his sons sake he would make the effort to befriend Gimli, Gloins son.

Every head turned at his entrance, fear etched onto every single of them. Not heading the others he walked over to where the dwarf stood in deep discussion with Aragorn and bowed before the dwarf, eliciting startled glances from everyone present.

"Master Gimli, I have wronged your father and his friends when they passed through my realm but I ask you to put aside my behaviour and come to my families aid."

The words of the proud Elven king shocked those present even more than his bowing, not even those who knew him for millennia could remember an occasion where he apologised more sincerely. Bewildered Gimli knew at first not how to react: all his life he had heard from his father and his fathers comrades how arrogant and all around disgusting king Thranduil was and now that very same king who had imprisoned his father was apologising to him and begging for his help. If it hadn't been for Legolas he would have laughed at the king and denied all help, but this was not the king he was looking at but a broken father who feared for the life of his child, Legolas. His face was pale, paler that it was normal for the Fair Race and looked drawn. His eyes, Gimli realised for the first time were dull and nearly lifeless, filled with shadows, pain and fear. Before he could think of it he repeated the kings gesture and bowed before him:

"You did not wrong my father and his companions, you had every right to imprison those who trespassed your lands – but I accept your apology, my king, even though it is not needed and offer you my help as a friend not so you are indebted."

For moments it seemed as if the king were to smile but that impression was soon overridden by the worried frown he had carried when he had entered the room.

"My son has called out in your tongue – I bid you to find out what worries him so much."

Together they entered the sleeping chamber of their son and friend, their breath hitching as they became once again aware of how close to death Legolas really was. Althilwen did not even look up as they sat opposite from her and instead starred transfixed at the face of the man she loved.

# "Legolas, my friend!" #

He spoke softly in his own tongue, hoping to gauge a reaction from his still friend, however the reaction he did receive was not what he had expected or hoped for, there was no recognition in those words, no life.

# "So I have fulfilled my oath, a son of Aule calls me his friend, Celebrimbor will not believe me when I tell him that ..." #

Shocked Gimli starred at his friend praying that he had misheard what he had spoken but knowing in his heart that he had not.


	17. Musings of friends

**Cale au Aratar 17**

Worried Thranduil was watching the face of Gimli Gloins son as he spoke to his son and as soon as the spark of fear entered the dwarfs eyes did he demand to know what his son had said but the dwarf was unwilling – or unable - to answer his friends father. Shocked and fearful he was starring at his friends ashen face that was once again devoid of movement, he could not, he would not believe what he had just heard, he would not give up the hope that his friend would survive!

"Master Gimli, please tell me what my son said to you, please tell me!"

Finally, after endless moments the voice of the Elven king penetrated his thoughts and with tear-filled eyes he looked up to him:

"He did not recognise me, he spoke as if he had never met me before... and he wanted to tell his friend that he had finally befriended a dwarf... my king, he was speaking of Celebrimbor!"

Even though he did not know much of elvish history or lore he knew the names of the most important elves -–and when they had died. He had immediately recognised the name Celebrimbor as the name of the great Elven smith, the smith that had forged the three Elven Rings, the smith that had died in the fall of Eregion. He would not believe it, he dared not to believe it but his mind told him that Legolas was losing his sanity. How could they have been so ignorant? How could they not have noticed that the elf was wounded, they had been with them the whole time!

Startled Gimli looked up as he felt a hand on his arm to be met with the startling blue eyes of Legolas betrothed.. He hadn't talked to her since the day she arrived and he had told her that it was impossible that she matched the beauty of Lady Galadriel, her mother, but looking at her he had to concede that she was just as beautiful as her mother. With regret Gimli saw the worry on her fair face and a deep fear in her eyes. A new resolve filled his heart as he saw the pain of his friends fiancée and he knew that Thranduil felt the same pain: if he wasn't able to do something to help his friend than at least he would do everything to help his family till the elf had regained his health. And what better way to lighten their spirits than by talking about the one they all cared so much for?

Even though he was surrounded by his family and friends, most of which he had known since his childhood, Aragorn felt like he didn't belong there. True, all of them were there because they were fearing for Legolas life, all of them were either Legolas family or friends or both, he should be comforted by the thought that he was not alone in his worry and grief, he should be able to speak with them and search together with them for a way to bring Legolas back... yet he could not find it in himself to do so. Even Imrahil, Lothiriel and Amros had joined them a short while ago. Of course Imrahil had left soon after he had arrived together with Faramir and Elrohir to oversee the arrangements for the coronation of the High King of the Eldar but his youngest son and daughter had stayed. All of them were trying to do something for Legolas or at least distract the present elves... It should be him, Aragorn who talked the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood and the other present into eating something, it should be him who cared for his family – not the hobbits.

He was at a loss at what to do and the only person who would know exactly what he should do or say was Legolas. Why had his life had to be so complicated? Why couldn't he have stayed the foster son of Elrond of Imladris, oblivious to his heritage and free of the guilt that his actions were responsible for the impending death of his best friend. He cared for Legolas, he was like the older brother he had always wanted, like a brother, an uncle and a best friend wrapped in one person so why was he not able to apologise to him? He would do everything for his friend, even die for him-so why was he unable to do such a simple thing?

In all the years he had known Legolas had not once crossed the thought that Legolas might die his mind, not once had he believed it possible that he would someday be left alone. How had Legolas been able to bear that thought, no, the knowledge that most of his friends would die while he would live on? How could Arwen bear the thought that he would die while she would continue to live... but would she? Would Arwen really be able to live without him? Hadn't she said that she would rather live one life-time with him than to live eternity without him? Didn't that mean that she would fade upon his death? A new panic filled his heart, what would have happened to Arwen if he had died on the quest? Would she still have had the chance to sail to the Undying Lands – or would she had been trapped on this shore, unable to leave because of her love to a mortal? Slowly he began to understand his foster fathers reaction towards his relationship with his only daughter.

When he had first seen Arwen he had called her Luthien, so overwhelmed was he by her beauty. Even though he had already completed his twentieth year he had never before seen her – of course he had heard of her but he had not believed that she could be even more beautiful than any other elf-maiden. As he had later learned it had not been planned that he would meet her at all: a few weeks earlier Elrond had revealed his heritage to Aragorn and had told him that he would travel with the rangers who were on their way to Imladris. Arwen had arrived earlier and the rangers later than expected.

The Lord of Imladris had not been pleased when he had learned of their meeting – and of his foster sons infatuation with his daughter and had forbidden Aragorn to seek Arwens company. Acting like any other human his age would have done he ignored Elronds order and sought Arwens presence which resulted in his banishment from Imladris. For the next twenty years he had had barely any contact with his former home and family, the only one he saw regularly from his former life was Legolas.

Twenty-six years after he had left Imladris he had met Arwen in Lothlorien and had once again started to woe her – only this time she reacted favourable towards him. The night before she had to return home to her father and brothers they pledged their love and life to each other. It took a further three years before he entered Imladris again, not because he sought his foster father or brothers out or even because he tried to see Arwen but because he was gravely wounded and the other ranger he had been travelling with had not the capability to heal him.

He had been welcomed back with open arms and nothing seemed to have changed since he had last seen the Last Homely House and he dared to hope that Elrond had changed his mind about a relationship between him and his daughter. Yet when Elrond surprised Arwen and himself in a close embrace he had made very clear that he had not changed his mind. This time Elrond did not ban his foster son from his realm but told him that he would only be allowed to marry Arwen when he had accepted his birthright and became king of Gondor, knowing fully that Aragorn didn't want to claim the throne that was rightfully his.

During all those years he had believed that Elrond just didn't believe him worthy of his daughter, never had he thought that Elrond just didn't wish to loose his child to death. He had been so blinded by his assumptions and wounded pride that he had not even thought about the reasons his foster father could have. Not once had he questioned himself when he thought that Elrond had only taken care of him because he was a descendant of his brother, not once had he realised how deeply the elf cared not only for his daughter but also for his foster son to come to such a decision.

Slowly it occurred to him how selfish he had been in his actions towards his foster father: what would he have done in Lord Elronds place when he had learned that a mortal was wooing his immortal daughter? And that she, if she would accept him, would loose her immortality and her life. Wouldn't he not have also done anything short of killing himself to ensure his daughters life? How much must it have pained Elrond to banish his foster son from his home in order to prevent his daughters death. It was a wonder that Elrond – as well as Arwens other family and friends - were still talking to him much less still welcomed them into their life's.

How had Legolas been able to stand his sight when he knew all those years that he would bring Arwens death? How had he been able to stay his friend, even encourage his feelings when he knew what they would bring? Legolas had once long ago when he had still been a child and knew nothing of his ancestry said to him that he would be always at his side as long as he allowed it. At that time he had thought nothing of that promise, he was still a child, the youngest inhabitant of Imladris and even more a mortal child but over the years Legolas had always stood right next to him when he needed help and had not once questioned him in his decisions if it was not to prevent a grave error... and now Legolas was dying through his fault.

What was it that had driven him to say those words before the battle at Helms Deep? As soon as they had left his mouth he had regretted them and knew that he should apologise for them but had decided that there would be time for that after the battle. When Legolas had come to him to apologise he had been to proud and to relieved to do the same and after that all had been to hectic and he had soon forgotten the whole matter. No, not forgotten but he hadn't found it important enough next to the other things that were happening around them: Saruman had been defeated but Saurons forces were overrunning Gondor. He knew that should they win and Frodo and Sam succeed in destroying the One Ring than he would have to step forth and accept his birthright and become the king of Gondor. Since he had heard who he was almost seventy years ago he had feared his destiny, feared the expectations that were placed on him. Not even his love for Arwen and the prospect that he would be allowed to marry her when he became king allowed him to overcome his fear.

He knew that his friends time was running out, that it was most likely already to late for him to be saved but shouldn't he at least try? Shouldn't he at least tell him how sorry he was for the words he had spoken? What was it that held him back from apologising to the elf, was it just his pride or something else? He knew that he deeply regretted those words – and yet he felt that it were not the words, at least not solely the words that had broken his friends heard – but what else? How could he apologise for something if he didn't even knew for what exactly he was asking for forgiveness? If he were to go to Legolas, telling him that he was sorry but didn't know exactly for what the elf would sense it and their friendship would be destroyed even further. No, he had to wait with his apology till he was sure for what he was apologising for. In the meanwhile he could just hope that Legolas survived.

Aragorn looked up as the door to the room opened and Imrahil, Faramir and Elrohir entered and after looking around came over to him.

"Aragorn, there are still some things that need to be agreed upon by the king of Gondor for the coronation before we can proceed – so if you have time now..."

Aragorn winced slightly at the cold distant voice of his foster brother, ever since he had inquired about Arwens absence before his coronation the younger of his foster-brothers had been cold and distant towards him. Of course Elrohir was still polite – he doubted that his brothers even knew how to be not polite to anyone who was not an Orc or some other creature of darkness - yet it was that kind of politeness that was usually reserved for strangers they would rather put right back on their horses and send away instead of talking to.

Not even when he had been banished from Imladris were his brothers that cold towards him and till now he had not been able to understand how unnerving the polite aloofness of Elves could really be. All of his life he had been around the Eldar, he had grown up among them and even during the years he had been banished for the Last Homely House did he stay in contact with the faire beings, often visiting Lothlorien and Mirkwood. When others had stated that they felt like a piece of dirt in the company of one – or Valar forbid a group of Elves he had always had to suppress a laugh at their expense. Though now he understood what they meant as he felt it for the first time during his life.

While he spoke Elrohir was watching Gondors newly crowned king, he knew how much his coldness hurt the man but he was not able to stop himself. Whenever he looked at the man since their argument he could not help but remember that the mortal didn't seem to care that his best friend was dying. Maybe it would be different if Legolas had been anyone else, not his own best friend, not the betrothed of his aunt, not his king. Legolas had been one of his first friends outside of his immediate family, he had always been there to tease him and Elladan about being so much younger than himself even though he insisted to almost everyone else that he himself was still quite young.

When their mother had been tortured by Orcs and had sailed West after being unable to bear Arda any longer he had accompanied them during their first Orc-hunts till he could be sure that they were experienced enough to come back from them alive. He had told them of his own hatred for those foul beasts and promised them never to try to stop them if it were not for the fact that he knew that they would loose their life's if they did not heed his warnings.

He was not sure whom he would choose if he had to, his foster-brother or his best friend. Where had Estel gone, the young boy whose entrance would brighten every room or even Aragorn, who would die before harming anyone he cared for? Where was this person he had helped to raise and regarded as a younger brother?


	18. Eowyn

**Cale au Aratar 18**

A week had passed since their little Greenleaf had last opened his eyes, had last reacted to their voices, their touch, their mere presence. No matter how much Luimîr hoped that his sisters son would survive – or even wake up for a last time – he knew that it would not happen. Only a day after Lord Elrond had left had they been forced to give Legolas the antidote to Sereg-Nen as it was only doing for what it was created for: driving the blood out of its victim, yet while Legolas was slowly bleeding to death Morgoths Tears remained in his body.

It had been gut-wrenching to see the acceptance in his nephews eyes as he had given him the antidote, the acceptance of his own impending death. One of the first impressions he had of Legolas were his eyes, startling blue, even moments after he was born. His eyes had always been sparkling and full of life, even while grieving. Not now though, when he had told him that he would have to give him the antidote to Sereg-Nen his nephews eyes had been dull and lifeless, the only emotions he was able to discern were acceptance and regret – but also love. Not once in all those years since his nephew had drawn his first breath had he seen him defeated, not when Celebrimbor or later his grandfather and mother and sister had been killed or his grandmother had faded out of grief.

He had been with Legolas when he found the mortally wounded man, he had seen the pain in his sisters sons eyes but behind the pain he had still be able to see determination and love. Never had he seen those sea-blue eyes loose their spark and the fact that they had done so now told him more than anything that Legolas would die if not a miracle happened.

Why was it that almost everytime Legolas loved someone he was the one that got hurt? Thranduil was not the only one who saw with worry that Legolas befriended so many mortals, knowing that he himself would be the one that would be hurt in the end, that he would be the one who would see every single of them die... A sad smile flickered through Luimîrs grey eyes at that thought. No, it would not be Legolas who had to watch his friends die, not this time. This time they would have to watch him die, watch him at first slowly than ever faster fading.

He knew that it was partly Aragorns fault that the first born of his sister was fading but he could not blame the young king for this for everytime he looked into the mans eyes he saw the pain and guilt the man felt. No, he could not put the blame on someone who felt so clearly remorse for whatever it was that had caused the breaking of Legolas heart. How could he blame him, who had in the eyes of the Eldar barely passed his coming of age? Of course you couldn't count the years of the edain in elvish terms – but than Aragorn had grown up among their people and was himself of the blood of the Numenorians and aged therefor different than the "normal" mortal...

On the first evening after they had arrived in Minas Tirith Legolas had told them of Lady Eowyns shock at hearing Aragorns true age, in the eyes of the mortal the king of Gondor was old – yet in the eyes of the First Born he would forever remain a child. So how could he blame a child for a mistake however fatal that mistake turned out to be? It was so easy to break the fragile heart of an Eldar, much more easy than most would think, one wrong word, one wrong gesture from the right person... No matter how much Elrond and everyone else may have taught the son of Arathron he was sure that no-one taught him how easily killed the Eldar really were. Few outside of their race were aware of that piece of information, Saruman had been one of them.

Whatever it was that Aragorn had therefor done or said had not had the intention to kill Legolas behind it, hurt – maybe but certainly not kill. As much as he wanted to interfere in whatever had happened between his nephew and his friend he knew that he would only destroy whatever chance his sisters son still had to survive.

With an inaudible sight Luimîr trained his eyes on the still form of his nephew and prince, marvelling how cruel fate was to take his life now that he was finally able to fulfil his destiny – and follow his love. He had been one of the few who were opposed to the betroths idea to postpone their marriage till a later time when it would be safe to be known at the Cale au Aratar. By no way was he a seer but he had felt that it would take a long time before it would become safe if at all. When his sister and niece had been slain by Orcs he had feared that he would loose also his sisters husband and her son. Surprising them all Legolas had saved his father and therefor himself from fading when Thranduils heart broke.

He himself was one of the few who knew how the crown prince had saved the king and if he hadn't been there when it happened he would have never believed that their soft-spoken prince would dare such a move. Everyone who knew Legolas since his childhood or had heard of his first encounter with Erenion knew that he was anything but mild-tempered but no one would have thought that anyone would do what Legolas did after he recovered the mangled bodies of his mother and sister.

When he had brought their bodies back to the palace Thranduil had wished to sees his wife and daughter for a last time but Legolas who knew in what state their corpses were threatened his father to take his own life if he would go to see them. No one who had seen or heard Legolas while he spoke those words doubted that he would carry through with the threat and Thranduil relented to his sons wish.

A week after they had been found the queen and princess were buried and Thranduil was fading at such a rate that the council was already discussing his burial thinking that nothing could bring their king back to them. Yet none of them had counted on the stubbornness of their prince, even after his display a week earlier they still thought of him as their fragile prince who could be felled by the slightest storm. Even though he had still been alive Thranduil had no longer had had the strength to leave his bed, ordering his advisors to seek either his son or come to him. It had been while he himself as well as several of Thranduils advisors had been present that Legolas had entered the room, for once clad in a silver robe that would have let him seem even more fragile than normal if it hadn't been for one of his fighting knives that he carried in his right hand.

All of them had feared what would happen, none of them willing to fight against their prince should he raise the weapon against one of them or even his father the king. But none of that had happened instead Legolas had calmly placed the handle of the knife into his fathers hand and had told him to kill him for he would surly die if he would also loose his father so soon after he had lost not only his grandfather and so many friends at Orodruin but also his mother and sister and that it would be kinder of Thranduil to kill him with a blade than to break his heart with his passing.

Four days later Thranduil had again held court in his throne room for the first time after his wife's and daughters passing.

Now Luimîr was wishing that someone would do the same to Legolas, even though his nephew had confessed to him that he sometimes wished that he had allowed his father to pass as it would have been kinder to him than to force him to live the rest of his life with the pain and anguish a broken heart brought to him.

Hearing soft footsteps Luimîr turned his head slightly to the side to be able to better discern who of Legolas friends was nearing the door and was startled to realise that it were Lady Eowyns steps he was hearing. During the whole time they had been in Minas Tirith she had visited Legolas only once and even that had been a rather brief visit – so why was she coming to see him now that he was no longer conscious? Before he could marvel further he heard a light knock on the door and motioned to the other guards that he would answer the door.

Without a question he let her enter the room and watched carefully as she walked over to the bed on which Legolas lay. For moments her steps faltered before she visibly pulled together and stepped to a vacant chair at Althilwens side were she sat down. Anxious he watched as Lady Eowyn reached hesitantly a hand out and clasped one of Althilwens into it, the one that was not holding Legolas'. Startled out of her thoughts Althilwen looked for the first time in hours up to see who was squeezing her hand and surprise flickered for seconds over her face as she recognised the Shieldmaiden of Rohan.

"Prince Legolas was the first of your race that ever ventured into Meduseld, we were all in awe of him when he came, accompanying Lord Aragorn and Gandalf and Master Gimli and we didn't even know that he was a prince of your people.

None of us had ever met one of the First Born and all we had heard were that you were faire beyond imagination and possessed magic to ensnare every other race. As children we had all heard tales of the Elven Witch in the north... and there came an Elf who was willing to fight for us. Never had we seen someone who fought with such grace and ease..."

In the moments of silence Luimîr marvelled the courage of Lady Eowyn to call Lady Galadriel an Elven Witch in not only the presence of several of the best trained Elven warriors but also her daughter. He knew that he was not the only one who had those thoughts as all of his fellow guards as well as Thranduil were watching the Lady of Rohan even more carefully after her words but the Lady seemed to pay their glances no heed and continued in the same quiet voice she had used earlier.

"On our way to Helms Deep he took me aside while we were resting, we had barely met two days ago, and told me that I should not loose my heart to Lord Aragorn as it would bring me only pain. I did not listen to him and tried to pursuit the king further, he warned me a second time after the battle at Helms Deep was won with the help of your people. We only learned who he really was when one of your warriors called him Prince Legolas shortly before the battle, he was known to us only as Legolas of the Woodland Realm.

I did not see the battle for myself as I was banned with the other women and children to the caves of the Deep but every warrior of Rohan spoke of the skill and daring of your people. Since the war is over I have often wondered about something, I was there when your people arrived at the Deep and even though Lord Aragorn and Master Gimli were surprised to see them Prince Legolas was not. He knew that they were coming, he had known even before we reached Helms Deep yet I can not understand how he knew.

So many of your people fell that day, warriors who came to defend the people of Rohan who had feared them only days ago... They sacrificed their life so that we could live and to learn now that the prince was wounded in the same battle, a battle that was not his to fight but that he fought so that others had a chance to live."

Once again Eowyn fell silent and all present elves wondered why she was telling them all these things as it was clear that she did not know Legolas that long or well.

"My mother died of a broken heart after my father was slain, I was still a child when she died and we were send to live with our Uncle King Theoden but I still remember what she taught me before she died: to always fight for what we believe in and if it is only the right to chose whom to love.

Milady, the prince was not felled by the wound he received in Helms Deep and I will not believe that he will be defeated because of words spoken in despair. As long as we don't give up fighting for him he WILL survive, the people of Rohan have survived Sarumans army because your people brought us hope, allow us to return it and give to you now the hope that you need."

Not waiting for an answer Eowyn squeezed Althilwens hand before she stood swiftly up and left the room, leaving its occupants in wonder at what she had said. For the first time since her betrothed had fallen unconscious Althilwen smiled. In the short time she had spend in Minas Tirith she had already met more mortals than during her whole life and she finally saw why Legolas was so fascinated by them, even though they had such short life's compared to their own immortality they possessed a wisdom that could equal their own as the White Lady of Rohan had just shown her.

Legolas had once said to her that the edain and the other mortal races were races who took action, something their own races had in most cases no necessity for, they had eternity to complete their life while the edain had only a few years. Lady Eowyn had opened her eyes to the reasoning of her brother in law who opened his Realm and his house to mortals of any race, she had always believed it to be merely for sentimental reasons as his grandfather had been an edain and his own twin-brother had chosen mortality over an eternal life but now she understood that living with mortals brought also humility and a different respect for the gift their immortality really was.

With a small smile playing around her lips Eowyn left the bedroom of Prince Legolas, she had succeeded in what she set out to do. She still remembered the day she had first seen Legolas – as well as Aragorn and Gimli; how could she ever forget the day her beloved cousin Theodred died and her Uncle was freed from Sarumans grasp and she no longer had to fear Grimas advances?

She had just run out of the hall of Meduseld when she had first seen the four riders, Gandalf she had recognised as once but the others had been strangers to her. One of the riders had raised his head and had looked in her direction only to look away moments later but as soon as the first looked away the second had looked directly at her and even though she was sure that it could not happen she felt as if he looked directly into her soul. Under that intense stare she did the only thing she could, she fled. When she later learned that he was an elf she had been torn between anger, fascination and awe. Anger at how exposed and useless he made her feel, fascination with his race and beauty and awe at his skills.

Till their first rest on their way to Helms Deep she had heard him speak only once in a language she did not understand. Shortly after she had learned Aragorns age he had sought her out – even eating some of her Stew – and told her in no uncertain terms, though all the while friendly and polite, that she should not pursue Aragorn for it would bring her only pain. She had been furious at his audacity and had walked next to Aragorn when they started again and had asked him about the necklace he was wearing that certainly belonged to a Lady. As Aragorn had told her that the Lady would be sailing West with her people she had barely been able to suppress an exclamation of triumph yet her moment of elation had vanished as she saw that Legolas had turned around to them before walking to the very beginning of their treck.

It was only when she was confined to the caves that she was thinking of him in other ways that furious. Only hours ago had she learned that he was a prince to his people and had wandered why she had not fallen for him instead of Aragorn: he was handsome and would stay so, he was a excellent warrior from what she had seen till then, he was polite and friendly, he was a prince... but he was not of the race of man.

He intimidated her with his mere presence and when he spoke to her she felt as if she was once again a child – in a way she still did around all those elves that were currently residing in Minas Tirith but seeing them all so worried made them somewhat more...human.

That night beneath the Deep she had had time to marvel about that handsome warrior, no prince, she had heard and seen earlier that evening the argument between Aragorn and Legolas and even though she had understood only the last sentence she had immediately known that it was not something she wished to hear or worse understand. The moment Aragorn had spoke that sentence she had seen an emotion flicker through the elf's eyes so fast that it had taken her till her stay in the halls of healing there in Minas Tirith to recognise what she had seen: raw anguish. Looking back now she knew that that had been the moment prince Legolas heart had broken.

Somehow she knew that she could not help him directly but at least she could try to make Aragorn see what he had done, she owed at least that to the Elven prince as well as Aragorn.

**Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! **

**I have update my bio – there is also a hint how this story will continue as well as my other stories!**


	19. Kings of Arda

**Cale au Aratar 19**

His mind told him that he was still alive, no, that was not correct, his mind told him that he was not yet insane, that he had not yet lost completely control over it even though his breaking heart had already forced his body into unconsciousness. Time held no longer a meaning for him, all he knew, all he felt was pain and the differing wish to die or to live. He was not aware how much time had passed since his awareness of the outside world had left him, since he had become a prisoner of his own mind held by pain and true and false memories. Often he saw himself surrounded by friends long passed believing them at his side until his mind, the still sane part of his mind, managed to dominate his thoughts and let him remember their deaths. At other times he saw his friends dying around him, dying even though he _knew _that they were still alive. He had wanted to cry out in anguish when his mother and sister had come to him, their bodies mutilated as they had been when he had found them, telling him that he could have saved them that it was his fault they were dead and that he had to pay for failing them tearing his beloved Althilwen from his arms and killing her before his eyes.

Yet his body had no longer the strength to call out.

He could not call for help when he had to watch his friends, friends he knew still lived, being tortured and killed, could not call for his father that he was still alive, that he had not yet given up fighting. Sometimes he heard his friends talking, even felt them sitting at his side but he was to weak to bring his body out of its unconsciousness. As his mind told him that he was still alive it also told him that he was fast fading, every breath, every beat of his heart bringing him closer to death. Some part of him told him that he should be afraid but he could not discern of what he should be afraid. Should he fear that the poison reached his mind before his heart completely shattered? Should he fear that he would be turned like those before him who had come into contact with Morgoths Tears before him? Had he to fear surviving more than dying? He was no longer sure, worse yet he could no longer find it in him to care. The only conscious thought, wish that was left within him was for the pain, the unspeakable anguish to end no matter if in death or insanity.

* * *

Contemplating he looked around the room his eyes sweeping over a dwarf, hobbits, men ...and elves. Never would he have imagined that he would be together in a room with an elf, least of all so many, some of them the most powerful beings in Arda. A grim smile flickered over his face as his gaze came to rest on Lady Galadriel, mere months ago he had called her a witch and now he was sitting here admiring her calm and beauty. As if sensing his gaze she turned to him her deep blue eyes boring into his very soul before she smiled at him and turned once again to her husband.

So much had changed since that morning when he and his men had encountered Aragorn, Gimli...and Legolas on the planes of Rohan. He had disliked the elf at first – or at least he had tried to tell himself that it was dislike and not fear and shock that a being could be at the same time so beautiful and deadly. Till that day he had prided himself to be an exceptional warrior, that no-one could surprise him but he hadn't even seen the elf draw his arrow yet not even a blink of an eye after he had insulted the dwarf he found an arrow pointing in his face. Had it not been for his men he was not sure what he would have done. When he had returned to Helms Deep on Gandalf's urging he had been shocked to encounter so many elves who were fighting – and dying – for his home. Eowyn had told him later that day that Legolas was not just a warrior of his people but a prince. Now though he wondered if the elf really was just one of the Elven-princes or if he was not _the _Elven prince. He had seen how the other Elves acted around him, how they guarded him and not all of them came from the prince's kingdom.

So much had changed since that day he had met the Three Hunters, Mordor had fallen – as had Isengard, so many people had died fighting for their freedom his uncle king Theoden and his cousin Theodred among them – should this Elven warrior follow them now that there was peace? What was there he could do to help if not even the prince's own race could help him? The healing abilities of the Elves were famed even though the Eldar had long been feared by the people of Rohan, there had to be something that could be done to aid the prince.

He had barely spoken to the golden haired elf and he was not sure if it was because of his awe or because they had nothing to say to each other but he vowed to himself that when the elf would wake up he would make an effort to get to know him. When he woke up... he had never been overly optimistic on the contrary Theodred had often accused him to be the worst pessimist he had ever met but he refused to believe that the Elven prince would die.

Absentmindedly he raised a goblet of wine to his lips, not even caring that it was wine and not the ale he preferred to drink like most from Rohan did. He did not remember much of his parents even though he had been already allowed to carry small weapons when they died but one think was clearly on his mind as he took a sip of the wine. When they had been children their mother had told them tales of Elves, wonderful tales of graceful immortal beings who could control the very elements of Arda. He had always believed the tales to be just that but now he began to wonder. Had that really been just tales to tell the children or did they harbour some truth? When Legolas had still been conscious he had heard Lady Galadriel, Lord Celeborn, Gandalf and Gimli talk about the Elven Rings and he could not help but wonder if they could not be used to help Legolas.

"_The Three are loosing their power, king Eomer..."_

Startled Eomer looked up as he heard a soft voice inside his head, a voice that reminded him of the voice of Lady Galadriel. With narrowed eyes he looked at the graceful Elven Lady to find her eyes boring for moments into his before he once again heard the voice, her voice:

"Be at ease, Horse-Lord, you seek to help your friend as do we all. You wondered why we do not aid the prince with the three rings of power that are left ... even before the One was destroyed their power was fading, they alone would not be enough.

_Eärendil's son has left in search for the fourth ring, a ring no-one but the prince knew of – maybe with its help we will be able to aid him..._

_Do not give up hope, Eomund's son, only Hope can safe Legolas and bring him back from the gate of Namos halls. Search for Hope King of Rohan, search for the Hope of Men, for only Hope can re-light the Blue Fire!"_

It took all his control not to let his surprise – and fear – show as he realised that it really was the Lady of the Golden Wood that had just spoken to him inside of his head. What more could she do, were the rumours he had heard as a child and young warrior about her and her powers true? Could she really bewitch the mind and control others actions just with her will? Slowly, ever so slowly the words she had spoken to him entered his conscious mind. They could not use the Three Elven Rings to help Legolas but than why was Eärendil's son searching for a fourth ring? And who was Eärendil or his son? He knew that Eärendil was the name of a star but how could a star have a child?

Once again he let his eyes travel around the room, accessing who was present and who not. Despise Faramir and Haldir he knew that everyone else who was not in the room with him was with Legolas... except Lord Elrond who had left nearly a week ago. Could Lord Elrond be the one Lady Galadriel had spoken of? But how was he connected to Eärendil? And who or what was the hope of men? Of course he had heart that Elves liked to speak in riddles and only hint at important facts rather than telling them outright but he had never been the one who was spoken to in that way. Why couldn't she just tell him whom he needed to find – or what – in order to do something for his friend. Did he dare to call the Elven prince his friend? Had he earned that right? Yes, he mused that he had the right to call the other his friend or rather consider the Elf his friend no matter how the Elf saw him. Someone who was willing to die for him, his family and friends deserved to be called his friend.

How the world had changed in a few short months! Even half a year ago he thought himself as a simple soldier, third Marshal of the Riddermark. He had been suspicious of everything he did not know especially Elves. And now... now he was King of Rohan, friends with a dwarf, four hobbits of whom one was in his service, the king of Gondor ...and Elves. The very Elves he had feared not so long ago but also the Elves who trusted him to help saving their prince. He would do everything in his power to show them that he deserved the trust Lady Galadriel had placed in him, in the people of Rohan – and he knew whom he could ask for help: the one man who had known Elves all his life, who had grown up among them.

* * *

Aragorn was startled out of his thoughts as Eomer approached him, he had neglected the king of Rohan during the last few days, where he had been happy when he managed not to neglect his duties as the king of Gondor to much. If it hadn't been for Faramir Gondor would have been completely without a ruler.

"Aragorn"

Eomer greeted him his voice as solemn as everyone else's,

"Have you ever heard of the "hope of men"?"

For moments Aragorn just looked at his friend before he answered him reluctantly:

"Lord Elrond called me that when he brought Andruil to me... He had named me Estel, hope, when he took me in as his foster son after the death of my father..."

He trailed off, lost in memories, two sentences both spoken with a hint of despair, of resignation yet one – the first also spoken with pride and love: "Ónen i-Estel Edain" answered by himself with "Ú-chebin Estel anim" "I gave Hope to the men" "I have kept no hope for myself". How true these words were!

Yes, Elrond had given hope to the men, he had raised their king so that he could return to claim his throne yet he himself had never wanted the throne of Gondor and now he would loose his best friend to death. His only consolation was that he would finally be able to marry Arwen – but would Arwen still be able to love him when she knew that he caused the death of her friend and uncle? Would she still love him when her aunt and maybe even her grandparents faded from grief?

When he had had spoken those words to his foster father he had just had a dream in which Arwen told him that she had chosen a mortal life - and was therefor doomed to die – and Elrond had told him that Arwen was dying. He had had no hope to see the love of his life again. He could have lived with the thought that Arwen had sailed West, that she would live eternity without him but the mere thought of her dying left him hopeless and terrified.

Eomer's voice finally penetrated his thoughts and he tried to forget the despair he still felt even if it was for a different reason.

"So you are the Hope the Lady Galadriel spoke of!"

Puzzled Aragorn looked at his friend urging him to continue,

"She told me that only the hope of men could help Legolas. She must have meant you, that only you could save him."

Eomer did not know why he omitted Lady Galadriels last words why he did not tell Aragorn that she had called Legolas the Blue Fire but he felt that it was something he was not allowed to disclose to anyone. When he turned his eyes from the king of Gondor he was once again met with the glance of the Lady of the Light who seemed to urge him to follow on the path he had just entered.

Aragorn felt as if a heavy blow had been delivered to his heart, pressing it together and leaving him faint. Somewhere deep within him he had known that he was the one who had caused Legolas heart to break, had known that it would be at least partly his fault if his friend died... And yet he had still had the hope that he was wrong, that he was not the cause. Now hearing from Eomer that Galadriel thought that he was the only one who could help Thranduils son was nearly unbearable. How could he help Legolas when he was the cause for his fading? How could he un-break the heart of his friend when he didn't even knew exactly what he did to break it in the first place. Not only would he bear the responsibility of breaking his friends heart but he would also be responsible for not mending it while he still had the chance. How he wished that he had not been so fascinated with Legolas golden hair. Had he stayed away from him, had he not tried to win the friendship of the prince of Eryn Lasgalen Legolas would live.

Even though Saruman was responsible for Legolas poisoned wound he had committed far greater blunder, had hurt his friend much deeper than any arrow or sword ever could. He knew that there was no forgiveness for his actions, that even if Legolas should ever be able to forgive him he himself could not. Morosely he continued his thoughts asking himself if his friend would survive or even wake up for a last time. A new, equally depressing thought entered his guilt-filled mind: did he even have the right to marry Arwen after everything he had done to Legolas? Did he have the right to see his greatest wish fulfilled when his friend was dying through his fault? Worse yet, would he also break Arwen's heart in a moment of ignorance? Had he the right to risk the life's of those he loved just so he could be happy – not caring what he did to them? Yet he knew that Arwen had already chosen. Her life was tied to his, his death would also mean the end of her life... and should he abandon her she would fade within days if not sooner. He did not know how Legolas was able to hold on for so long, what gave him the strength to continue living while his heart was breaking and a poison slowly killed his body.

Haldir had said that it was because of his love for Lady Althilwen and his oath to Frodo that he was still alive but from what Legolas had said to him in the gardens he had gained the impression that it was also because of him, because he had sworn to both of his parents and also to himself that he would be there for him on his coronation. Didn't the rapidly worsening of his friends condition now that the coronation had passed support his fear?


	20. Taule

**Cale au Aratar 20**

The sun had yet not risen when a lone rider entered the White City, the guards allowed him to pass without complain as they recognised both horse and rider. With sure steps he entered soon after he had passed the first gate a room filled members of all races of Arda. Before entering the adjourning room he allowed his grey eyes to travel over those that were holding vigil: four hobbits, dosing lightly but even in sleep their faces were not relaxed, a dwarf who had looked up as soon as he had entered the room, a group of edain, two kings, a steward, a prince and his children, a Shieldmaiden...and lastly his own people. Proud yet grieving, clinging to the last bit of hope they could find, praying that their prince would survive and lastly an Istar who had been true to them since he had entered Arda millennia ago.

None of them were sleeping, none dared to enter the realm of dreams out of fear their friend, their prince might pass. Slowly Galadriel, Celeborn and Gandalf rose from the chairs they had been resting on. Yet before they could enter the next room Gimlis voice stopped them:

"Is there anything I can do to help the lad?"

Elrond didn't look back at the dwarf as he answered him:

"No-one can enter the room after us! If you must, subdue Aragorn, we can not be disturbed. When he demands an explanation tell him that the Fourth Ring has been found but let him under no circumstance enter the room!"

He knew that his foster son would try to enter the room, would try to help yet there was nothing he could do to help, every interruption would only bring more danger to all involved.

As soon as the door had closed behind the four immortals did Gimli stand up and started to drag his chair as silently as possible next to the door yet before he could take more than two steps the chair was picked up by one of the present elves and carried over to the place next to the door he had attempted to reach.

"There is no need to wake those who are sleeping, Master Gimli, even without the scraping of a chair Estel will wake to soon for your liking."

After a moment of hesitation he continued:

"May I join you, Master dwarf?"

All Gimli could do at that unexpected question was nod and watch as the tall elf carried a second chair to the door. He had barely sat down when the elf questioned him about his friendship with Legolas yet the dwarf was not willing to answer the question immediately even though he had to concede that he was intimidated by the weapons the other carried.

"Now see here!"

he all but growled at the immortal next to him,

"You don't even tell me your name or who you are and expect me to tell you everything I did during the last several months, that isn't very polite, lad!"

A smile settled on the fair features of the elf as Gimli spoke; yes, he had heard of the conversation between the dwarf and his prince when they had first arrived even though he had not witnessed it himself and he was delighted to see that the dwarf did indeed have no respect for them – at least none that he showed, he _had _heard of the dwarfs infatuation with the Lady Galadriel.

"Forgive me the lack of manners, Master Gimli. My name is Taulë, son of Luimîr. I did not mean to offend or pry with my question, I am simply curious how my cousin came to finally befriend a dwarf."

Sceptical Gimli looked at the elf next to him. If not for the shape of his eyes he would have looked nothing like his friend. Where Legolas had golden hair Taulë had red hair that seemed almost black. His eyes were a warm dark brown and his build was – while still slender like all elves – heavier than Legolas'. No, nothing would have let him guess that this was his friends cousin!

"So you are the lad's cousin, eh. What was he like as a child?"

For mere moments the elf just stared at the dwarf before the smile on his face transformed into a grin, promising many embarrassing stories about the Elven prince.

"Before I tell you anything about Legolas you have to promise me to never use anything of it against him and to never tell him that I was the one who told you!"

Seeing the honest plea in the elves eyes Gimli gave grudgingly his promise and waited for the elf to begin his tale.

"You must know, master Gimli, that I am several years younger than prince Legolas – and though that barely means any difference in the eyes of our people it still means that I was not yet born when the prince was a child. I am sad to say that I therefor missed the prince's first encounter with Gil-Galad – or more precise both of those encounters – though my father who was present for the second of those encounters assures me that it was a sight to see.

I do not know if you are aware what transpired during the first of that two meetings but as I was told Gil-Galad insulted the prince, though unknowingly, as he told him that the bow the prince had picked up was nothing for such a small girl as he was. There is no doubt in my mind that you have heard of the temper of king Thranduil, but it is nothing against Legolas' temper if he is ever angered as Gil-Galad learned that day. Thus insulted the prince fired the arrow he had notched and wounded the king in his left shoulders, slightly above his heart, and told him that he was arrogant and if he wasn't careful the next arrow would pierce his heart.

The next day Gil-Galad and his entourage reached the palace and inquired about the fiery maiden who had dared to shoot their High King. It is needless to say that the maiden was not known to anyone and Gil-Galad had to see his error as he was introduced to the heir of the crown-prince Thranduil. Lord Elrond should be able to retell the tale more correctly than myself as he was present – or you could of course ask the prince himself but he has still to miss a mark with his bow..."

An almost pensive look came over the face of the elf as he paused, contemplating his own childhood and the friend he had found in his slightly older cousin. Would he loose this friend, this brother, in the near future? Was he already lost to him and his other family and friends? No, he could not, would not believe that there was no hope left. He had grown up with Legolas, they had escaped their parents together and also their guards, they had played pranks on those unfortunate enough to fall into their traps... They had laughed and cried together, healed each others wounds before someone else – namely their parents or guards – could see them... And yet here he was, holding vigil at the door of his dying brother. He had not been there when he had been wounded, poisoned, when his heart had been broken by one he called a friend, his best friend. Shaking his head clear of those morbid thoughts he continued:

"The first time the prince took me on one of his adventures, our adventures, was when I was still a child, having yet not come of age. For weeks beforehand had I been complaining about being still treated as a child, which I in fact still was..

To this day I am not sure if he took me along to stop my complaining or to teach me a lesson... or just because he wanted to escape himself. It was not easy to evade all of our minders, our parents, his grandfather King Oropher and his numerous guards as well as my own. The prince must have been planing our adventure for weeks or he was just lucky but we were able to escape the palace in the early ours of the morning long before sunrise the same way your father managed to escape. Of course at that time the palace and the city were still situated in southern Eryn Galen not far from the place where Dol Goldor once was but there was still a trap door in one of the cellars to let the wine barrels down which had to be opened from the inside.

It was only the second day when I asked the prince to return but he wouldn't have it and told me that he would see the northern edge of the realm before he would return but told me the way I had to take to reach the city once more. To be honest with you, master Gimli, I hated the prince for the first days of our journey... and for some days within ... but I dared not to turn on my own. I was terrified of the large woods even though I was born there and am as any elf at ease in Nature, yet as a child the wood was to vast for my liking. I was used to the palace and city, to the people that surrounded us, to the guards that were watching that nothing happened to us – and there I was alone in the woods with my cousin who was barely older than myself exploring the wilderness without anyone to turn to for help.

For one week we managed to evade our trackers completely, the trees following our, or rather his plea to hide us from anyone but each other, but after that time the guards had grown nearer to finding us. Instead of turning back the prince urged me to travel faster, telling me that we _would _reach the northern border before our trackers. Not once did he let me see that he doubted that we would be able to do it yet as soon as we had reached the border he stopped and made a camp waiting calmly for the arrival of our guard.

His first words when our pursuers finally reached us half a day later were: "It took you long enough, ada!" for it had been our fathers as well as several guards that had followed us. I am not sure if our fathers were more livid at our audacity to travel alone, our ability to do so or relieved to find us unharmed – and the prince still as ... cheeky ... as before we had set out."

While Gimli allowed himself a small chuckle at the imagination of this scene, Taulë allowed himself to remember the result their first adventure had had: for the weeks, no months following their escapade their parents had not let them out of their sight, separating them whenever possible. Their punishment had been to help cleaning out the stables – for on whole year – but it had not hindered them to find new mischief as soon as the year had been over.

Gimli watched the elf after he had stopped talking, noticing after a quick glance around the room that all of the other First Born were looking at them, wistful smiles on their faces. Even though he had seen on his own adventure with Legolas that the elf had quite a mischievous he would have never imagined that he would go as far as ignoring the rules of his father or run away from home taking a _child _with him! But than, what counted as a child in the eyes of an elf? Was it someone who had not yet completed his twelfth year, or his thousandth? As much as it irked him he had to ask his companion.

"Lord Taulë, what exactly do you call a child, and if you apologise for my curiosity, just how much older than you is Legolas and why do you always call him your prince, is it because..."

At this point Gimli trailed of, casting nervous glances towards the still sleeping Aragorn.

For a moment he feared to have offended the elf as he was looking at him with a closed of expression on his faire face.

"My people call anyone who is not yet of age a child or elfling. On our fifthiest begetting day we reach adulthood and are allowed to train with sharp weapons where beforehand we had to use dull practise weapons which we are allowed to use as soon as we are able to carefully handle them.."

A small smile quirked his lips upward,

"Of course there are those who manage to ... acquire ...sharp weapons when they are only ten years of age..."

Seeing Gimlis questioning face he explained his remark a little bit further:

"The prince stole out of boredom into the armoury when he was only ten and managed to take one of the bows with him without the guards noticing that it was missing. You will have to ask king Thranduil or my father or the prince himself for a more detailed account of that particular tale as the facts were never completely retold to me – at least not to retell the tale.

I am thirty-one years younger than the prince, when we had our first _adventure _together I was twenty-nine and he therefor sixty years of age, barely a decade after coming of age. Yet the fact that he was of age didn't hinder his parents from giving him house arrest just as mine did to me.

You ask me why I call him my prince... I fear that it is something I have grown used to when not among kin. Even though I am of the Avari as was my aunt, his mother my people came to live in Eryn Galen millennia ago, accepting the house of Oropher as our ruling house. My aunt still claimed the title as Lady of the Avari as does after her passing my cousin yet as he is older than me that means that even among the Avari he is still my Lord whereas my father as well as myself and any offspring I may have will be after him the highest nobles of the Avari. Therefore he is both my Lord and my prince and one day soon he will also be my king."

Hearing this Gimli was even more astounded that Legolas, High prince, heir of Mirkwood – no, Eryn Lasgalen – and Lord of the Avari had deemed him worth to be called his friend and to call him his friend. It had been the elf who had named their unusual companionship of insulting, competing and caring, it had been the elf who had asked to be his friend. So much had changed since they had started their quest all those months ago in Rivendell or even more so since he had left his home the Lonely Mountain together with his father and some of the other elders. He had seen war, had met the great Bilbo Baggins and had become friends to the even greater Frodo Baggins as well as to three other remarkable hobbits. Than there were the two human kings he had befriended, Eomer of Rohan and of course Aragorn of Gondor, last of the Numenorian, chieftain of the Dunadain. He had fought alongside the Shieldmaiden of Rohan, slayer of the Witchking and had come to like Faramir, steward of Gondor even more than his older brother Boromir whom he had been quick to befriend; but than he had met Boromir during a time of perils and he was sure that he would have developed an even closer friendship with the man had he not succumbed to the Ring. He had travelled through Moria where they had – temporary lost their leader Gandalf. They had visited the Golden Woods of Lothlorien, he being the first dwarf allowed to enter since the first fall of Khazad Dum.

Lothlorien, a place full of wonders, the place where he had first lain his eyes on the greatest beauty in all of Arda, the Lady Galadriel. Galadriel, a woman whom he had scorned at the mere mentioning of her name till he had for the first time stood before her. Lothlorien, the place where his friendship to Legolas had formed even though both of them had still refrained to call it thus. Only as they came face to face to a force of darkness so great that their death seemed unavoidable were they both able to verbally acknowledge that what they shared was a deep friendship. A frown creased Gimli's brow as he realised that it had for his friend been more than a fear to die that day. He had known that his death was really coming, that his end drew nearer with every breath, with every move he made, every arrow that he fired. How could he fight when he knew that every movement drove the poison further into his body? How could he stand the pain, the knowledge that his immortal life was so violently ending?


	21. Elros

**Cale au Aratar: 21**

Shock went through him as he saw the pale face and limp body of his prince. He had often seen Legolas wounded, even unconscious at times but never, never in all those years had he seen him so pale...so dead. Without a doubt he knew that there was no longer something any of them could do to heal him, all that was left to them was to ease his pain and even that required a miracle. Almost hesitantly he walked over to the bed and stepped next to Thranduil, _he knows _flickered through his mind, _he knows that his son is dying and that there is nothing he or we can do about it. _Just as those thoughts were passing through his mind Thranduil looked up and looked him directly in the eyes.

"There is still a chance, there is still hope, there is always hope. Legolas has still not given up and as long as he is still fighting so will I and even longer! There is still hope for him!"

Hope, Estel, so often during the last days during his lonely ride had he wondered what he had done wrong, where he had erred in raising Arathron's son, where he had failed. It had taken him till he had already been back to Minas Tirith to realise where he had failed: he had failed to realise that Estel was only human. When he had told Estel of his heritage and his fate he had done so under the impression that the young edain would be able to handle it as well as Legolas had handled the knowledge of his fate. He had not realised that Legolas had literally eternity to come to accept his destiny while Aragorn only had a few short years.

Furthermore did Legolas have the reassurances of the Valar that he would be able to handle his destiny while Aragorn was alone. He had had no right to place such a burden on the shoulders of a young man without giving him the believe in his own strength that he needed.

_Ú-chebin Estel anim. _How those words hounded him, how they would hound him for the rest of his life, for eternity. Now he realised that for the last years he had often failed to see Aragorn, to see Estel the small boy he had raised but had instead seen Elros his own twin brother. True, Estel looked almost nothing like his ancestor only his eyes were those of Elros', the same grey-green colour, the colour of the new leaves of a silver poplar.

It still hurt to look into those eyes, into the eyes of his brother only to know that it was not his brother he was looking at, that it never again would be his brother. For years he had not been able to forgive his brother for choosing a mortal life as it meant that they would be forever separated at his death. Yet as the years past he realised that it was not his brother he could not forgive but himself for wanting to remain immortal. Even though they looked nearly completely alike, only the colour of their eyes allowing a distinction, their characters could not have been more different. While Elros loved to hunt and even to fight he preferred to spend his days in libraries or in the halls of healing. He had always been the quiet one compared to his twin and because of his visions often the one who needed to be protected; so while he was the older of the two it had often fallen to Elros to protect them both. There had never been a time when Elros had not taken action, when he had done immediately what was necessary, it had never mattered to him if he liked what was asked of him – it was necessary he did it. Seldom had he allowed himself to spend days or even weeks over old books and scrolls or learning old lore, in that aspect he had always acted like an edain.

When they had been given the choice, immortality, the life of an Eldar or mortality the life of an edain he had known what his brother would chose even though they had not talked about what their decision would be. Nevertheless it had hurt when his brother had chosen a mortal life, a life that would soon come to an end.

That day when he had failed to convince Isildur to cast the One Ring into the fires of Mount Doom he had felt as if he had failed his brother. He had known that Isildur would die because of the ring, that the ring would betray him. For centuries after that he had asked himself if he would not have been able to save Isildur if he had only tried harder to convince him to destroy the ring.

Yet when Aragorn had been first brought into his care he had not thought of Elros or Isildur only of a small boy with wide wondrous eyes he hadn't even dwelled on the passing of Arathron when he had looked at the child - and the man had been a close friend. With Aragorn a child had once again graced his house and for the first time since his beloved Celebrian had been captured and had sailed to the Undying Lands he had felt contend.

Deep in his heart he knew that he should have never scorned Aragorn his love for Arwen, some part of him had always known that yet when he had first learned of their love all the pain he had felt at his brothers choice and death that had always simmered in his heart had surfaced with vengeance and he had felt as if his heart was bursting with pain. All he had been able to do was to lash out at his foster son and forbid him to ever see his daughter again or to ever enter his valley again. Even while he had spoken those words had he known that in his heart he did not mean them but the knowledge of his daughters painful future and even more painful death as well as the memories of his own pain at the death of his brother had prevented him from acting any different about their love. He had known even before Arwen had been born that she would fall in love with a mortal and die of a broken heart yet when the time had come he had had to try and prevent it, prevent their love from forming.

When Elros had still been alive his visions had been different. Yes, they had been more intense, more painful and even more regular till he had learned from Lady Galadriel to block at least some of them but even during the most intense vision he had had an anchor. He often wondered if Elros had been aware that it was his presence, his existence and the bond they shared as twins that kept him sane during their childhood. Elros had been his strength during those visions, the power that preserved his reason and his sanity without him he would have been driven insane. Even after his brother had chosen a mortal life did their bond remain – till Elros had died in his arms. He still remembered the day, how could he ever forget the day his brother, a part of his soul died? The day had been wonderful, warm sunlight had flooded the room when his brother had drawn his last breath, the sound of waves had drifted up to the castle from the sea the cry of gulls had cut into his heart. Never again would he be able to hear the cry of a gull without seeing the death of his brother before him, that day he had learned to hate the sea with a passion. Celebrian had asked him to accompany her when she sailed West but his hate for the sea and the knowledge that neither his parents nor his brother would wait at Valinor's shores for him made it impossible for him to go with her. Yet when Legolas would not survive he would leave – or fade.

He had lost many during his long life, to grieve, to a sword or simply to old age. The most painful of these passings had been that of Celebrian and that of Elros – his wife and his brother. One he would see again but the other was lost for eternity, there was no return from a mortal death. Was it for that reason that his brothers death hurt more than all the others? He knew that he would see Celebrian as soon as he sailed to the Undying Lands or she returned to Arda but still... When Elladan and Elrohir had been born he had been torn between happiness and fear. Fear that one of them would make the choice of Elros and would leave the other behind. He had also felt a tinge of jealousy that his sons would have something he himself longed for since the day his brother had died. Elven twins were even closer than mortal twins, they were only complete when the other was with them, they felt when the other needed them and in rare moments they would even think and feel as one. It had been that bond that had Elros allowed to guide him during his visions and it was the same bond that allowed Elrohir to cheer Elladan up whenever he was to lost in his thoughts. His sons were so much like Elros and himself, Elrohir, the younger one was more open, more cheerful and loved weapons while Elladan, the first born was like himself a healer who loved to spend his days in the vast library of Imladris. Elros would have loved his valley and his family just as he had loved Elros home Numenor and his brothers family even though he had never been able to fully forgive Elros wife for being the reason he chose to become mortal.

* * *

The hands of Elrohir brought him back to the presence as his younger son opened the clasp of his cloak.

"He isn't any longer responding to our presence or our voices, ada, but we can still feel him, he is still himself."

Concerned he exchanged glances with his mother in law and Mithrandir, when he wasn't even responding to them any longer than he was indeed nearly gone. Even unconscious he should be able to ... communicate ... with those of his blood. At least he was still himself and not yet changed otherwise all hope would have been lost.

"Elrond, you will hold him. Try to force your mind to connect with his through a vision – Elrohir will anchor you and Elladan will guide you. We need his co-operation – without it we will be set to fail."

Celeborns voice allowed no denial, speaking was not the elf who had taken Elros and himself in or even his father in law but the Lord of Lothlorien Celeborn the wise. As he went over to the bed Thranduil stood up and lifted the unmoving body of his son from the sheets. With fear Elrond noticed that the bandages on Legolas side were shining with a hint of silver. No-longer was Legolas blood the red with a silver sheen but pure silver. There was no-longer the question if he would be turned, when an Eldar bled pure silver his soul had nearly reached Namos halls. Those who fell in battles left to sudden for their blood to change but those who were wounded but died of a broken heart bled in their last days or hours pure silver.

While he settled down on the bed, his sons sitting down on his sides he was not able to take his eyes from the silver spot on the bandage. Whit shaking hands he retrieved the beautifully crafted ring out of a small pocket in his tunic and wrapped it into a small cloth before he gave it to Althilwen:

"When Elladan tells you place it on his finger but do not touch it."

Only a faint nod was her response but it was enough to know that she would do as he asked of her. He felt Thranduil tremble as he placed his son into his arms his head coming to rest on his left shoulder. _He has lost weight _flickered through his mind as the younger elf leaned against him. While he rested his own head against Legolas' he felt that his sons placed their hands on his shoulders offering him guidance and support. It was not that difficult to force a vision but it was painful. All the mental blocks he had erected to ward him from most of the visions had to be torn down opening his mind to a world where wraiths and spirits resided. Somewhere among them he knew had to be a link to the mind of Legolas, a link he had to find as soon as possible.

* * *

Before him he saw a small girl, a girl he had never seen before, a girl he knew was only the spirit of someone long dead. She did not speak to him when she turned around away from him and beckoned him with a gesture to follow her. In what seemed to be only moments they had reached to edge of a wide sea and in the distance he saw the kneeling form of his prince only when he started to walk towards him did she speak:

"Please tell my brother and my father that naneth and I will always be with them."

Looking sadly at the form of her brother she continued:

"He can not see me – at least not yet – and I fear the moment he will be able to. Tell him that Aule's son is proud of him but does not want to see him before the end of time...

Lord Elrond, the rings have to be invoked in the order they were created: fire, water, air and life. Each of the bearers has to invoke it on his own but as soon as you have called on their power you have to join your strength to push the poison out of his body – if it is still inside of him when the next day dawns he will have joined naneth and myself."

Without an other word and before he could answer her, her spirit vanished and left him alone. They had only a day left to save their prince, only a day to save the one they all loved before he would enter the halls of Mandos. A part of him was surprised that they had so much time left but an even greater part feared that it would not be enough. Slowly he willed himself over to Legolas crumpled form, suppressing a violent start as he saw the face of the once proud warrior. The face that he saw before him was lined with anguish, fear and hopelessness.

"Come back to us, little one. There is still a way to help you, still time to turn back."

* * *

It was well over two hours since Elrond had started his attempt to enter their prince' mind when he suddenly stirred.

"He is no longer able to follow my pull – we will have to go to him. I was told what we have to do but we need Legolas as the bearer of the fourth ring. I was told what we have to do and till when..."

Asking with her eyes for confirmation Althilwen unwrapped the ring Elrond had given her before he had forced the vision and placed the ring onto her betrothed's finger. She had seen the three other rings and each seemed to be more beautiful than the others but she could not help but think that Cuilya was more beautiful than the others. Nestled into two strands of Mithril lay a green jewel, yet what caught her eye was that the two strands of metal were many thinner strands that were interwoven with each other till they formed two larger strands. When she looked close enough she could see that each of the strands looked like the largest of the three braids that Legolas used to wear when fighting or hunting.

While Althilwen had marvelled the beauty of Cuilya Elrohir had stood up to make place for Mithrandir while Elladan and Thranduil were carefully unwrapping the bandages around Legolas side. As soon as they were finished both Elrond and Mithrandir placed their right hands above the wound on Legolas back while Galadriel placed her own as well as Legolas hand above the wound on his stomach. Each of the three conscious ringbearers closed their eyes as soon as their rings touched the bleeding wound not seeing that within moments their hands were coated silver. It took only moments before their bodies seemed to fall into itself as their minds left them.


	22. Powers of old

**Cale au Aratar: 22**

Pippin shuddered as he looked out of the window, he had not imagined the lightning or the eerily blue light of the sky, he knew it and seemingly just to confirm his thoughts a second bold of lightning flickered over the sky. What was happening? It was not normal that there was lightning without thunder or without a storm but that was exactly what was happening and no-one besides him seemed to be noticing it. Unsure he looked around the room and found that most of the elves were focussed intently at the door to Legolas bed-chamber and those who were not looking at the door were starring out of the window.

Ok, so maybe he wasn't the only one who had noticed but still Merry was sleeping as were Frodo and Sam for that matter. How could they be sleeping when the world was ending around them?

The next lightning was accompanied by the sound and smell of heavy rain – yet there was no water! Trying to conceal his panic Pippin shook Merry awake whose grumbling also roused Frodo and Sam as well as Aragorn. Before he could say anything the others turned to the window shocked and fascinated by the unusual display.

"What is happening? Merry? Stri...Aragorn?"

For long moments no-one answered Pippin till Aragorn finally turned to the scared hobbit:

"I do not know Pippin but whatever is the cause of this... strange ... weather does not feel dangerous to me but I will find out what is happening in my city!"

„There is no need for worry, Elessar. No-one with good intentions will come to harm now that our strongest as well as Mithrandir have called on their power, their gift, their birthright." Erestor, one of the advisors of Elrond and one of those who had raised the little Estel, stopped the human king as he made to get up.

"What do you mean?" piped Pippin up who was still frightened by the power he saw and felt.

"Can't you feel it, master hobbit? The power that is filling the room, the stones, the very air that surrounds us? You have seen fire and water awaken to be joined by air, now only earth, only life is left to answer the call. This is the first time that all four are called together, the first time that our prince opens himself completely to his power..."

With a soft smile in Sams' direction he continued: "What you feel young hobbits is the magic of the Eldar in its purest form. There are no restrains, no holding back. This time the magic is directed by love, everything good will grow, pain will lessen and wounds will heal – the only thing that it can not heal is a broken heart. Seldom is our magic used in anger or hate but if it ever happens nothing that inspired those feelings will be able to stand against it..."

Erestor trailed of and for a time it seemed as if he had said all he was going to say but as continued to feel the inquiring gazes of the hobbits and men on himself he spoke again:

"None of you have ever seen an Eldar truly angered or controlled by hate, none of you have seen what it does to us... no, not even you Estel...yes, we might have been able to hold Sauron at bay for many years to come, even if he had gained control over the one ring -but the price we would have paid would have been too much for us to bear. One by one we would have fallen into the shadows, one by one we would have lost our souls to a mortal death. For a few more years Arda would have been kept save but our race would have perished completely and the gift Eru granted us would have vanished with us. Nature would have followed us, wilting more with every soul that would have been lost... No, we were not willing, not able to pay that price when the result would not have been satisfying for as soon as the last of us would have had passed Sauron would have still been as strong if not stronger than before."

A pensive look settled onto his face before he spoke again, this time in warning:

"Brace yourself, the earth is awakening, it has slept for more than four millennia and no-one knows how she will react to being called to aid us."

Erestors words had done nothing to calm the present mortals – on the contrary, some of them asked themselves for the first time in their life what powers elves really possessed. If they were able to control nature as complete as only three of them were doing at the moment, then weren't the more powerful than wizards? True, Gandalf was also helping them but hadn't Erestor just told them that they alone would have been able to hold Sauron off for many years?

However it was not fear that settled in their hearts but awe and fascination for the immortals. No, none of them scorned them that they were not willing to wipe out their complete race to buy others a few more years of peace – who would dare to destroy such a wondrous race?

The shaking of the ground was at first barely noticeable and no-one was sure if they had not only imagined it, even the Eldar were not sure if they dared to hope that they had really felt it. Hours had passed since three of their rulers had entered the bed-chamber of their dying prince and they had all but given up on their hope that he would find enough strength to invoke Cuilya. For long hours after Erestor had told the mortals what was happening nothing indicated that the earth was answering their call and many began to believe that they had imagined the one faint tremor that had run through the earth when it happened for a second time. Even those without the delicate hearing of the Eldar were by then able to hear the chanting that came out of the bedroom. Chanting that was constant but also desperate and the voices they heard conveyed the tiredness their owners were feeling.

"He will not survive, will he?"

All eyes turned to Frodo as he voiced the quiet question, some were shocked, others regretful but all were filled with pain.

"No, he will most likely not survive this day... but even if he does not survive shall his last hours be as painless as is possible with a breaking heard." Glorfindel confirmed their fears from his place besides one of the large windows. "What they are doing is not about saving his life. We do not have the capability of saving his heard and life. All that is within our power is to save his soul. When he dies and Morgoths Tears are still in his body his soul will be denied entrance in Namos halls. He does not deserve an eternity of pain. The souls of orcs are mortal while our souls continue to live till the end of time. If the poison were to still be within him, if it had encased his being his soul would not be recognised as one of the Eldars and it would be unable to find rest."

Sorrow clouded his eyes as he continued:" Do you know the history of Orcs? That the first Orcs were of our people? We can still feel their pain, after all these millennia the pain of the Orcs has not lessened. The reason they hate us with such a vigour is that they know that they should be one of us, that they were bereft of their true life. They hate us because we are what they should also be. If Saruman had succeeded to turn Legolas he would have hated us more than any other Orc because he would have remembered who, what he once was. He would have carried the pain within him, unable to release it, unable to flee from it. Not even death would have been, would be able to release him from the pain because his soul would have remained immortal. So many souls were lost since the creation of Arda, so many souls were trapped within the shadows..."

Turned to Frodo and Sam who were listening with rapt attention he spoke his next words: "You have seen the Dead Marches, you have seen what has become of the battlefield of Dargorlad. Those who were buried there after the battle three millennia ago were trapped there by the malice of Sauron. It is their souls that call out to those who dare to wander through that cursed land. Their souls are what seems to be fire. Should they fail to drive the poison from Legolas body he will become like them, trapped in this world with no way to escape.

Yet if they should succeed the souls of Dargorlad, Orcs, Men and Eldar would finally be able to find peace."

Peace for his soul, was that really all that was left for his best friend? Was the proud elf really lost because he had failed him? No, he could not, would not believe that there was o way left to save Legolas! He would not believe that it had been himself who had destroyed one of the proudest, the gentlest, the noblest being he had ever known! Legolas would live and if he had to give his own life to insure it! – But hadn't that been what had started it? Hadn't it been his resolve to fall in that battle, to fall with the others that had caused the elfs heard to break? He was no longer sure what he should do, the one person he had always been able to turn to was dying at his words and he didn't know how to stop it. What was there that he could say, could do to force the life back into his friend? He could hear what Legolas would have said to him if he had been able to ask him: _"Follow your heard. Listen to what it tells you. Even when your mind falters your heard will know what is right, what you have to do."_ But wasn't that what he had done wrong? His heard had been afraid and he had lashed out at his best friend.

So lost in his thoughts Aragorn didn't notice at first as the ground began to tremble beneath his feet. It felt at first like a low rumble deep within the earth, the mountain Minas Tirith was built from. Yet only moments later he would have described it as the very earth arching her back in pain and grief. Like a wave movement seemed to roll through the earth. Drawing circles around Minas Tirith the earths movements rolled from the topmost level of Gondors capitol outwards. Each wave seemed to gain in magnitude, in strength but not once did anything in the room shatter. Most of the elves had hurried to the windows as the first wave crashed under their feet's and looks of awe were settling on their faces causing the mortals to follow them.

Once, long ago Minas Tirith had been called the Green City where it was then only called the With City. Yet the more waves were rolling under there feet's, the more green became visible to the eyes of the Eldar in the city below them. Dry trees started to come back to live, grass and flowers were growing wherever their eyes settled.

It was Taulë who voiced the thoughts of most of the Elder: "Life does not want to let him go! Yavanna has bestowed her gifts on him, he is granted a new chance. Their blessing is renewed."

Hesitantly, as if barely daring to, hope flickered in the eyes of the First Born yet none of them dared to truly believe in it at that time.

Once again hours passed after the last wave had passed beneath them before the doors to the bed-chambers opened and Orophin stepped out. His gaze flickered over the assembled and stopped at Erestor, Taulë, Glorfindel and Arwen. With faltering steps he walked over to them.

"Lord Elrond does not believe that he will survive till the next dawn. Before they called to the Four he had a vision of Tinmirwen telling him that if the poison had not left his body by dawn he would be lost to us... Yet not even an hour ago she visited him again. Lord Elrond reported that she was near panic as her brother was able to see her – something only the dead should be able to.

He has given up, his soul has started to leave his body. The princess told us that Lord Cirdan will arrive on the day of the coronation but whether his ship is decked in silver and green or silver and black she refused to tell.

She had one other message for us but none of us are sure what she meant: Confident, father, friend and brother, the son broke the heart, the one who confided the trust, the friend the love and the brother the bond – only together can they mend the heart.

The little princess refused to tell the meaning of her words and while Lord Elrond believes to know who at least one of the mentioned is he can't be sure about the others."

Barely suppressing the pain that shot through him as he heard those words Aragorn turned away from the elfs and stared grimly out of the window. Oh he knew what those words meant, he knew it all to well. Hadn't he himself called Legolas more than once his brother, his friend, his confident? And wasn't the elf as much of a father to him than Elrond? After all Legolas had been the best friend of his father and it had been Legolas who had brought him to Elronds house. But wouldn't that mean that Legolas thought of him as his son and not just his best friend or even brother? He flinched as he realised that he had hurt his friend even deeper than he had realised. How could he ever look the elf into his eyes with the knowledge that he had disappointed him in that way? Legolas had been his anchor during his whole life and during the time he had been banned from Imladris it had been Legolas who held to him and who had brought him news from his family. What had driven him to speak those words in Helms Deep? No, he thought, it was not the question what had driven him to say those things, he knew what had led him to speak them. Desperation, pure desperation and the fear not to survive that night. – No, that was not true, not the fear not to survive but rather the wish not to survive. Never before and never after that night had he felt so hopeless, so helpless and never had he though that it would be easier to just die. He knew that he never should have spoken that way to Legolas but were those words really enough to break the others heart? It wasn't that that had been their first fight during the long years they had known each other – so what was so different about it? Yes, he should have never told his friend to die like those around him or that he intended to do the same and he had never before insulted the others race. But was that really enough to kill him? He was sure, that there was something he was missing, something that would explain to him exactly what he was missing and what was now costing his best friend his life.


	23. But it is not this day!

**Cale au Aratar: 23**

It was not often that he felt so helpless, as if he was failing all those around him – and indeed, this time he was. He was called the best healer in Arda, yet when it mattered he was not able to help; he had failed to save the life of his beloved wife and now he was failing to save the life of his prince, his king. Deep down he knew that it was not his fault, that there was no cure for a broken heart save the one that caused it but the sense of failure remained.

His body needed sleep, he could feel the weariness seeping through him with every heartbeat but he refused to sleep as long as there was still a chance for Legolas. None of them had slept more than a few hours since they had arrive in Minas Tirith but he himself hadn't slept at all during the last week when he had left in search for the fourth ring. Of course, he had rested his mind now and then but even that was not enough and he knew that he needed to sleep before his body took the rest it needed on its own.

"Thranduil, we have to allow his friends to see him, there is nothing more I can do for him, nothing more any of us can do."

* * *

The king of Eryn Lasgalen did not remove his eyes from his only surviving child as his friend spoke to him. Yes, he heard the words that were spoken, he even understood their meaning – but he would not allow himself to believe them. Believing them would mean giving up on his beloved Greenleaf, acknowledging that his son would die and that was something he would never do. How could he give up on his son when his son had in a similar situation refused to give up on him? He would not fail his son in such a way – and he knew that he was not the only one who thought that way. None of those who were holding vigil was willing to give up on the prince of Eryn Lasgalen, even Aragorn wanted him to live. While Elrond thought, hoped, that he was not aware who caused his sons heard to break he had known from the moment he had learned of his sons failing health who was the cause. He might not be blessed with foresight but he had still known from the moment Legolas had come back from his visit to Imladris and told him of the small Estel, that the small edain carried his sons heart, his happiness and his very life.

Yet he had also known from that very moment that he would be completely helpless if the edain ever managed to break his sons heart. Not for one moment had he believed, that Aragorn had broken his sons heart intentionally, that he had wanted his friend to suffer or even to die and it was only this knowledge that stopped him from taking the life of Gondors king. It didn't matter that he thought of the new king as something like a grandchild, or great grandchild as he had seen in Arathron a grandson. He had once seen Saruman as a friend and it was Saruman who had ordered to kill his son. Not only that but he had also created a cross between men and orcs and had brewed the most horrible poison ever invented. Already more then two weeks had passed since he had send out some of his guards to hunt down the traitor and he knew that by now they had to have found him and were bringing him back to Gondor.

"Than let them in, my friend – but give up on him yet. I know that he will survive, I know that I will hear his voice again, that I will kneel before him when he is crown our king!"

As he spoke the last words Thranduil had raised his head to look directly at his friend and his eyes were filled with determination.

"Let them see my son in his weakened state, not because he could be dying but to make them understand. Make them understand that even though we are immortal we can die – easier perhaps even than them."

* * *

For a moment Elrond faltered before he pulled himself with visible effort together and stepped to the door. Before he opened it he turned around and surveyed those assembled in the chamber. Almost the whole ilsa tirnoë stood lined up along the walls and even though they had stood that way since the day they had arrived all of them still carried their numerous weapons. No, not all of them: both his twin sons had placed their weapons on the ground next to Legolas bed when they had assisted them calling onto the rings. Cuilya – he had never believed that Celebrimbor could have forged a ring even more powerful than his own. The power of the last Ring had shocked him to his core. He, like everyone else, had felt the power that rolled from Legolas as he had awakened the ring but different than all except the other two ring-bearers he had also felt his own ring strengthening. Absentmindedly he looked down on his own hand. Vilya was sparkling and pulsing with power like it had never done before. Even when he had received the Ring from Gil-Galad on the eve of the battle of Mount Doom did the ring shine like this. Yes, Legolas had told him that only Cuilya could unlock the true power of the other three rings but he had not expected that it would make such a difference.

Being a ring-bearer he was able to see the ring on his prince' hand and he marvelled not for the first time how no-one had noticed the affection the smith had had for the young elf. Looking at the ring it was clear to him, that Celebrimbor must have loved Legolas as much as he had loved Galadriel and he wondered if Legolas had been aware of those feelings. He had to have been, how else was it to explain, that Legolas had been able to see – and apparently feel – the death of the smith? He knew, that he would most likely never receive an answer, even if Legolas would survive but he would always wonder.

All eyes turned to him as he stepped out of the bedroom, all eyes were questioning, fearing, hoping and for a moment he wished to be anywhere but where he stood.

"You can see Legolas – but I warn you, he is not conscious and he will most likely not survive the next night...the dead are awaiting him yet fear his coming. If he still lives after the next dawn he will stay among us."

Without an other word he turned around but left the door open behind him, knowing that once his words had sunken in the others would follow. Gimli was the first who came out of his stupor and followed him. He felt the dwarf stiffen behind him as his eyes fell on his friend. Had Legolas before been pale, paler than he already normally was, was he now barely visible among the white bed-sheets. His golden hair fanned out around his overly pale face, his bright blue eyes were closed and his lips were nearly as white as the rest of his skin. They had foregone to dress him in his usually sleeping cloths the when they had changed the bandages after the invocation of the rings and had instead they had opted to clad him in a short silver tunic that was closed with soft strings of silk and was easily to change.

* * *

As soon as he had entered the room Gimli thought that even near death the elf looked perfect. Yes, he was paler than before, deadly so and his glow had considerably dimmed to the point where it was barely showing and yet the elf looked just as majestic as the first time he had seen him. When he had travelled with his father to Rivendell he would have never thought that he might wish to exchange his own life for that of an elf, any elf. But as he saw his friend lying on his bed he wished to lay there in his stead. He was mortal, he was supposed to die someday but the elf should live till the end of time. Even a year ago he would not have cared if this elf had died but now, now that elf was his best friend and he would do everything in his power to save him – only that there was nothing he could do. Looking around he saw that no-one was paying attention to him, all eyes were fixed on the elf and he marvelled how much trust they put in him. Of course there was no way that he could beat an elf in battle, he had no illusions about that fact, but still they trusted him enough to pay him no attention while he was in the room of their prince. His father would be shocked and furious to see him here, standing unconcernedly in a room full of elves, king Thranduil included.

Slowly he walked over to the bed, choosing deliberately the side on which Legolas father was sitting and spoke to his friend softly in Khuzdul. It didn't matter if the elf could hear him but he had to tell him how much he cared for his friend, how much he honoured him – and how much he would miss him if the other should indeed die.

The hobbits were the next to enter the room, each looking sadder and more scared than the others. They had seen death during the quest, they had even killed but never, never had they believed that Legolas their elven companion could die, especially after the ring was destroyed. None of them spoke as they hurried over to the bed and climbed on it on the foot-end, there was nothing they could say, nothing that could save their friend. When the earth had trembled and the sky had been filled with storm, lightning and rain they had hoped that there was still a chance left for their friend to survive – but now that they saw him they were no longer sure. The elf had always been so full of life, so playful and always there to sing for them or tell them some tales. When Gandalf had fallen in Moria it had been Legolas who told them about the numerous times he had met the Istar and had thereby eased their grief a little bit. They missed his voice, his laughter and feared that they might never hear it again.

Slowly the room filled around them with all those who had previously waited in the outer room. Each of the new-comers. Mortal and immortal alike entered the room, fearful of what they would find, fearful, that when they would leave the room again its occupant would no longer be among them. Pain was etched into the face of Eowyn, Shieldmaiden of Rohan. When she had first met the fair prince her cousin had just hours ago died in her arms and not long ago her uncle had also died in her arms. While she still grieved for their death and would grief for them as long as she was alive, just as she still grieved for her parents, did she know that they had been supposed to die. They had been mortal, just like she and her brother were, but Legolas... Legolas was an elf, he should live forever, he wasn't supposed to die and she felt that his death would be needless. The war was over and there should be no more death still there he lay dying not of the wound his body had received during the battle, not even any longer from the poison. No, he was dying because his friend had broken his heart.

There was absolutely no need for his death, no need for the proud prince to die – except that he was wounded in the one way that could not be healed. But what use would his death have? The race of the Eldar would vanish from the shores of Arda to become a legend, a myth and soon be forgotten. She could see it in the eyes, on the faces of each of the Elves that they would leave if the prince should die, not one of them would survive him, she was even sure that Lady Arwen would slowly fade. Could Lord Aragorn, no King Elessar not see that not only his friend but also his foster father and brothers, all of his immortal friends and even his bride were slowly dying? It would not be one person who would die but a whole race!

As she raised her eyes from the still form of the Elven prince her gaze caught that of her brother who stood next to Aragorn. For a faint moment Eomer seemed caught in the steely gaze of his sister and he was almost sure that he could hear her thoughts, hear what she knew had to be done. With new resolve he tore his eyes from his sisters and turned to the king of Gondor:

"Do you remember what you said to hour people as we stood before the Black Gate? I will remind you what you said that day!

_Sons of Gondor, of Rohan. My brothers._

_I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me!_

_A day may come, when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of Fellowship, but it is not this day!_

I ask you now, Aragorn, has the day come for you that you forsake your friends and break these bonds? Or will you fight as you told us that day to do?"

Aragorn looked shocked at Eomer as he heard his words repeated to him. Had it really gone so far? Had he really forsaken his friend and broken the bonds of fellowship? With fear he realised that he was close to destroy the friendship, the very life he had held dear for nearly as long as he could remember. AS he straightened his shoulders he looked into his friends eyes and answered him with the words he had used before the last battle:

_"But it is not this day! Thos day we fight! By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you, stand, men of the West!"_

A smile graced Eomers face as he stepped out of Aragorns way and allowed him to step to the bed.

With baited breath all those who knew what Aragorns roll in the failing health of Legolas was waited to see what he would do. Smiles flickered over some of their faces, frowns over others as he didn't halt at one of the chairs that surrounded the bed but instead laid down next to the dying prince. Even those Elves who were sitting directly next to the bed had to strain their ears to hear even small parts of what Aragorn was whispering into his friends right ear.

"You can't leave us my friend, we need you, we need you to make us smile, to make us laugh. Who will be there to fight with me till I am exhausted when I am nervous? Who will teach the children I want to have together with Arwen what true friendship means when you are no longer here? What will happen to Althilwen when you die? Do you want the woman you love to die from grief? She would not be the only one, your father, her parents, your whole families would fade without you."

Tears were leaking out of Aragorns eyes while he spoke and he didn't notice. He didn't notice that he grasped one of the limp hands of his friends or that his other was stroking the hair of his friend. All he knew was that he could not let his friend die, that he would not cease to fight till he opened his eyes again or till he stopped breathing.

"Please, Legolas, I need you, you can't leave me! You were the one who showed me that life was worth living for when I had learned of my heritage and was banished from Imladris. You were the one who did not scorn me my love for Arwen.

At Helms Deep I was so afraid, afraid that we would loose, that I had led Gimli and you to your deaths, afraid that Arwen had really left for the Undying lands. But most of all I was afraid that I would fail. I did not realise it then but I wanted it all to end, I wanted to be free of my destiny, of my fears, of my duties and guilt. For moments I thought that it would be easier to just die that night, I wished to die that night... And as usual I told you that but I was to angry and to afraid to tell you of my fears and instead lashed out at you.

When I was a child you often told me that I should not react with anger when I was afraid – and yet that is what I did. I hurt one of the most important persons in my life, I hurt you my best friend beyond repair because I reacted with anger, with fury to my pain.

I beg you to live – not because of me or anyone else but because of you: you are more worth than to die just because I wasn't able to control my fear. I am not worth your death! Yes, I know that you would disagree with me, but as you would tell me that you are not worth my death – and don't deny it, you have often told me that – I tell you now that I am not worth _your _death. You are more worth to me than my life.

Please come back to us, come back to me – I need you as my friend, as my brother, my confident... and even my father. You have been all that to me, please be continue to be there for me, for I am lost without you!"

* * *

The Return of the King movie script 


	24. This day we fight!

**Cale au Aratar:24**

Already the sun had set and still there was no change in Legolas state. He would not give up on him though, he had sworn himself never to give up again after he had learned the hard way what giving up could cause him and others. Had he not given up all those weeks ago Legolas would not be laying on his dying-bed. No, he had learned to never give up on hope no matter how hard it may be to hold on to it. Someone, he did not know who, had lit a few candles and placed them around the room so that the mortals among them could see, yet he wished they hadn't been lit. In the darkness he was able to tell himself that his friends face wasn't as pale as before but in the flickering light of the candles that ghosted over the still form the skin seemed almost translucent.

How he prayed that Legolas would survive, that he would hear his voice once again. For moments he allowed his eyes to leave his friends face and travel over the others in the room that he could see from his position. Both Thranduil and Althilwen looked exhausted but neither of them was sleeping – and how should they be able to when the person that was most important to them in the world lay dying? He couldn't stop the smile that flickered over his face as his eyes moved on to the hobbits. All four of them were curled up around each other seeking comfort in the others arms. They looked so innocent despise all they had been through during the last months. As he looked at them Frodo opened his eyes and returned his look before his startling blue eyes settled on Legolas. Still Aragorn continued to watch the hobbit, marvelling at the strength the small being portrayed.

"He will wake up."

There was no doubt in Frodos voice as he spoke and Aragorn found himself unable not to believe the Ring-bearer.

"How can you be so sure?"

Hesitantly blue eyes settled on his own and the hobbit looked deep in thought before he answered:

"He wants to live. I can feel his ...desire... to return but he was unable to do so.

Something has changed, the barrier that was there before is gone?"

Incredulous Aragorn looked at Frodo till Thranduils voice reminded him that they were not alone:

"One who was once a Ring-Bearer is forever changed, Elessar. There is no going back if you have once accepted one. Some may loose themselves, others will find themselves - but all are changed. You have felt today what power the Rings can execute and it was just a small task, none of the strength of the bearers was used. Did you really expect that our friend would return unchanged?"

Thranduils voice was not unkind, only filled with a deep lingering sadness. He knew that he would not survive his son long, he had already lost too many of his kin. When first his parents and then not even a decade later his wife and daughter had died had he believed himself unable to keep living. Only his beloved son had kept him from following the rest of his family. Many thought him heartless, that all he cared for were his numerous precious jewels and metals, only few knew that he no longer dared to care about anyone else than his son. Already did he feel a pain in his heart, a pain that told him, that he would not survive the death of his son long. A day or two at the most but more likely only moments or hours. He tried not to give up the hope that his son would survive but with every hour that went by without him waking up his desperation grew.

A startled gasp drew everyone's attention to Aragorn. Yet the mortal man did not notice the watchful eyes of the others as he carefully drew his hand over the forehead of his friend. Only moments later a wide smile settled on his face and he looked up to Thranduil:

"He is returning! His skin is growing warmer, he is no longer as cold as he was mere hours ago!"

Immediately Elrond, Luimir and Elladan rushed over to the bed, hoping to confirm Aragorns words. With the experienced hands of healers they gathered Legolas still limp form in Elladans arms as Elrond and Luimir unwrapped the bandage around is body. Smiles settled on their faces as they saw that the blood that still seeped out of the arrow wound was no longer pure silver. With nimble fingers Luimir touched his nephews side and found that the two holes that marred the younger ones front and back were slowly healing. It would still take days, weeks even before they would scab over and eventually scar and years even before the two scars would fade and leave the skin once more unmarred – but that didn't matter. Finally after all those days he knew that his prince would live. With tears running down his cheeks he looked from his nephew up to his brother in law:

„He will soon wake up, in time I believe for the coronation."

A nearly impish smile settled onto Thranduils face at those words, a smile, that while often seen on his sons face, had not be seen on the face of the king since the time first his own father and later his mother, wife and daughter had been taken from him. Those who had only heard tales of the stern king and were to young to remember him before those tragic events – or had in fact not even been born at that time – were staring in wonder at the king of Eryn Lasgalen as he jested in a way they were used to from his son:

"In time for the coronation you say? I hope that he is awake by then – I doubt that either he or the prince would appreciate it if he were to miss the coronation!"

* * *

Not for the first time since he had joined the quest did Gimli re-evaluate his opinion on Elves. At first he had grudgingly conceded that maybe Lord Elrond was an exception to the race, that he was the only one who was courteous. Then when they had met the Lord and the Lady of the Golden Wood he had fallen in love with the Lady Galadriel and accepted that her husband was also a nice... person. Some time during their stay in Lothlorien he had come to think of Legolas as a friend, soon his best friend, but had always held firm to his believe that he would never be able to like or even tolerate Legolas father king Thranduil. He had spend hours rationalising that Legolas had to come after his mother and that he had absolutely nothing of his father except his looks. Yet now during this endless days of Legolas illness he had met king Thranduil, for the first time met him and not just an image his own father and his fathers friends had conjured. And much to his charging he had to admit that Legolas had not only inherited his appearance from his father. He had spend many hours with Legolas Elven friends and his cousin and while he had learned that much of Legolas' behaviour was inherited from his mother he could not deny that an equally large amount came from his father. So how could he justify to like the same trait at the son but not at the father?

* * *

Night had settled over Middle Earth when Althilwen first saw a small stirring coming from her fiancé. Not daring to look away from his form she reached out with her hand to place it on the arm of her future father in law. Moments later her long fingers squeezed the arm they enclosed almost painfully as she saw a tremble run through her beloved's body. She had not believed that Legolas would die – yet now she could not believe that he would survive, that he would truly return to her. She had fallen in love with a warrior, a prince, an artist, a singer but most of all a extraordinary elf. She had had no idea who or what he was when she had first laid her eyes on him and now he feared tat she had lost this person.

Over the millennia she had seen him change, she had seen as he lost his smile for a while, how he had grown more solemn over the years yet his smile, his laughter had always returned. When he had buried Arathron he had been broken, the edain had been more than a mere friend to him and his death had hit her beloved hard. Yet, after a visit to Imladris a few years later his smile had returned. She had not been with him at that time, it had been hard for her to visit her sisters home after her sister had sailed West and while she still visited the Last Homely House from time to time it was not the same as before. So when Arwen had started to spend most of the year in Lothlorien she had gladly accompanied her sisters only daughter to her home Lothlorien.

It had been years later that she had first seen Aragorn, Arathrons son, the man Legolas had spoken off as if he was his own son. During a quiet moment she had asked him what he felt for the edain and after a slight hesitation Legolas had confessed that he loved his friends child like he would love his own children. Fear had gripped her heart in that moment, the love to a child was equally strong as the love to a spouse and the death could be equally devasting. While her death could only be brought forth through force the death of Aragorn was sure no matter if he was felled in battle or simply lost his life to age: one day he would be death, without a chance to be released from the Halls of Mandos.

The same day she had sought counsel from her mother, begging for a chance to erase that chance or at least the knowledge if Legolas would fall through his love to the edain but her mother had been unable or unwilling to answer her questions. She had often seen Aragorn after that first meeting but never had she tried to talk to him, never had she tried to get to know the man that could be the death of her fiancé ... and herself. Years later Arwen had confessed to her that she had fallen in love with a mortal, the same mortal that held the heart of her beloved prince of Mirkwood. That day she had both cursed and blessed the edain, cursed because he held the heart and the very life of all those she cared about in his hands and blessed because he had to be a worthy soul to inspire such a love. A new tremble fixated her thoughts once again on the form on the bed, Would he be the same as before? Would he still be as light-hearted as before his heart was broken or would he be torn like his father? He would be changed, that much was certain. Changed not only by his broken heart but also by Morgoths tears. Yet how much no-one could imagine. The pain would linger but how much would remain, would it be enough to wipe the smile from his face, the laughter from his eyes?

* * *

A low moan interrupted all thoughts and all eyes snapped to Legolas who was once again laying motionless. Not long after this first indication that their prince was finally returning to them Aragorn felt a slight shift in the hand he was holding and before he could alert the others in the room to this new development he felt that the weak fingers were squeezing his hand. Overjoyed Aragorn squeezed the hand softly back and turned to Thranduil, telling him what had transpired. For agonising moments all watched as heavy eyelids fluttered and tried to open – only to give up after trying numerous times. Once again the body of the prince stilled and his mind seemed to recede to the blackness it had dwelled in during the past days.

Hope had snaked itself into the minds of those waiting, growing stronger with every moment their prince had not faded. Not a single of them doubted any longer that their prince would awaken. It was as the first rays of the sun filled the room that Legolas eyes opened for the first time in days. All who were watching him immediately saw how difficult and tiring this simple act was for the prince of Eryn Lasgalen but different from before he did not give up but struggled to open his eyes. Finally tired blue orbs flickered around, searching for one face. For moments they remained locked onto the faces of Althilwen and king Thranduil before finally finding the one face they had been searching for, the face of the one who had brought the life back into them – after nearly having taken it away.

"I will not leave you, not for many years!"

The words that passed the dry and tired lips of the Elven prince were barely louder than a soft murmur of the wind but all assembled heard them and knew that their prince had returned to them. Therefor it was not panic that filled their hearts as his eyes closed moments later but relief. At the questioning glances of the hobbits who knew that elves were normally sleeping with their eyes open Elladan explained:

"He has fallen into a healing-sleep, his body and mind will rest till they are strong enough to wake up, to live. He may sleep for mere hours or days or even weeks but I believe that he will only sleep a day or two. When he wakes up he will still be weak, at least weaker than he normally is, he would still be able to match most in a duel but it will take a few restful days before he will be as fit as he was before he was wounded in body an soul. By the time he wakes he should eat something to strengthen his body after all this days without food but in a week or two he will be fine and up to his respectless...I mean cheerful self."

By the time he finished the oldest son of Elrond of Imladris was grinning cheerfully at the hobbits, knowing quite well, that none – not even king Thranduil – would scold him for his...respectlessness against his future king. All of the assembled Elder, and he speculated even those who had been in the Fellowship, knew that the Elven Prince loved to disregard protocol whenever possible and only followed it when absolutely necessary. He couldn't wait to see how he would act after his coronation, as the High King he had to be at least a little bit respectfuller then before.

* * *

Hmm, this story is nearly finished, only one more chapter – or if I do come around to write the alternative ending ( the one in which our lovely prince dies) two more chapter...

I am already planning my next – new – story but I can't decide which of my ideas I should allow to grow into a story so I ask you to decide for me:

A crossover between Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings

**2.** Aragorn tells the Fellowship his favourite childhood story of the son of Sauron and an elf –

only that it is not just a story as he will soon learn

**3.** Before the Valer Eru created an other group of beings, four winged Creatures, the Angels.

As payment for a granted favour one of them has to walk Arda and live amongst its

Inhabitants. – In short a tenth walker story.

So please tell me in your review which Idea I shall use ( I have the most ideas for number two so that would possible become the longest story of the three but you decide)


	25. Hail High King Luin Nor!

**Cale au Aratar 25**

It was night, the night of Midsummer and the nobility and most of the commoners of Gondor were assembled on the highest level of their city. For centuries the Gondorians had hoped to witness a coronation, the coronation of their king. Mere weeks ago their dream had come true, none of them had known that only weeks later they would be able to witness something even more magnificent, the coronation of the High King of Elves. All of them had grown up with the story of the Last Alliance, the story of Elendil and Isildur – but also of Gil-Galad, the last High King of the Elves. And while Gondor still had had a king for several centuries after Isildur had fallen because of the One Ring, the Elves had been without a High King for three Millennia.

Most of the humans felt insificant next to the ethereal beings of the Eldar but their awe was not accompanied by envy, just by wonder. Alongside them stood the first born, their glow lightening up the twilight of the night. The Elven Rulers stood tall and proud in front of their subjects together with Lady Althilwen, the two mortal kings Elessar and Eomer, the dwarf Gimli and the Istar Gandalf as well as the future queen of Gondor Arwen and the steward of Gondor Faramir and his bride Eowyn, Shieldmaiden of Rohan, stood next to Prince Imrahil, his son and daughter.

Under the light of the moon a group of fifty Eldar clad in hooded Dark silver cloaks entered the courtyard, their double bladed swords glittering in the light. Silently they formed a half circle, leaving an opening between the half of them to allow their prince to enter through it. The four hobbits from the shire followed the ilsa tirnoë closely, Pippin the youngest of the four carried a dark silver pillow on which a magnificent crown lay.

Finally as all others had found their place a last figure stepped out of the throne room wearing a light silver cloak, the hood drawn up over his face. All present Elves were singing softly and even the king of Gondor was heard joining in their otherworldly song. Like the fifty members of the ilsa tirnoë this new comer wore a double blade strapped on his back but instead of the dark wood the handles the of the other swords had, the handle of this sword was gleaming white inserted with jewels that glittered in the moonlight. With slow deliberate steps the figure walked to the half circle of the silver guards and stepped through the opening which closed as soon as he had stepped through. At the same moment the half circle closed behind the figure the singing of the elves stopped and silence hung over Gondors capitol like a light blanket.

Soft at first a single voice broke through the silence. Leaving mortals and immortals alike in awe the Lady of the Light raised her voice, so rarely heard, to sing of the days of old. She sang in her clear soprano of an oath that brought the greatest pain to her people and of the subsequent banishment from Valinor, the Blessed Realm. Her song told of kingdoms long fallen ... and of a Legend that brought hope to her whole race. Even those who did not understand the words she was singing where able to see in their minds eyes the pictures her song conjured. They saw the pain and the love and finally they saw a small elfling that grew up to become one of the greatest warriors of his kind.

* * *

A dawning suspicion settled in Aragorns mind as he listened to Galadriels words. He had of course known of the oath that had led to the kin-slaying and even though he had heard only rumours of the Cale au Aratar while he had been a child but it was the last part of her song that frightened him. She sang of a child born to a crown-prince and his wife, of a child who would be blessed by the Valar. What frightened him was that this child was accepted by Aule as one of his own and would breach the wall that had been build between the First Born and Aules children. He knew of only one Elf on whom this description fit, the one Elf he had nearly killed. Could that be? Could Legolas really be the prince of the Eldar? Could he have really killed the Cale au Aratar in a moment of self pity?

The voice that picked up the song as soon as Galadriel had finished confirmed Aragorns fears. He knew that voice all to well. How could he forget the voice of his best friend, his brother? There was no doubt left, Legolas was the Cale au Aratar, the next High King of the Eldar, the prince that would be crowned at the end of the night. In shock Aragorn listened as his best friend sang of the creation of his kind and how they split first into those who followed the Valar to Valinor and those who decided to remain behind and how those who started the journey split even further apart. He sang of the kings that came before him and ended with the tale of Erenion, Gil-Galad the last High King of the Noldor. He sang of the battles the kings had faced, of their love and their loss. Before the eyes of the listeners the life and death of each of this kings was resurrected and all thought themselves able to see the faces of those long dead. They saw the great hidden city of Gondolin as well as the battle of Dargorlad. They saw how each of this kings fell but how they hope remained.

* * *

Under the light of the stars the voice of the prince drifted off into the night and two of the silver garbed guards, one from each end of the half circle, stepped forward. Seemingly with one fluid motion one of them took the sword from the back of their liege while the other took the cloak from him. Golden hair caught the star light as soon as the cloak was removed and the whole figure seemed to glow.

As the two guards stepped back to their places in the half circle everyone was able to see who it was that stood before them. Clad in an ornate silver robe, not unlike the one he had worn at the coronation of king Elessar only much more magnificent stood the prince of Eryn Lasgalen, the very same Elf that had been in the Fellowship and had fought for both Gondor and Rohan. Many of Gondors nobility stared in shock at the elf. They had known that he was a prince, a crown prince even but to know that the King of all Elves had fought at their side, fought for their land and their freedom...

The days after the coronation of the king of Gondor they had learned that the prince of Eryn Lasgalen had been mortally wounded in the battle of Helms Deep and was not expected to survive. They had learned from Prince Imrahil, that even though so grievously wounded he had continued to fight and their respect and awe for him had grown, even more so when they had learned that he was a prince. Yet to know that he was not just one prince out of many but their king was frightening to know. Knowing that he had been so horrible wounded they were able to see that his slim face was even slimmer then before, almost gaunt and many came to the conclusion that the slow steps he had taken when he had come down the steps from the throne room had not been deliberation but exhaustion. Not a few faces showed next to awe also worry for the state of health of this elf they all admired.

The members of the Fellowship stared in various states of shock at the elf they had come to regard as a friend. They had known that he was a prince since Aragorn had let it "accidentally" slip one evening during their second week of journey but even to those who knew or had at least suspected during the last weeks that their friend Legolas was actually more than just the prince of Eryn Lasgalen could not reconcile the adventurous elf they had travelled with with this otherworldly being that stood before them. They knew him as a warrior and a friend, they had even seen him as a prince in Lothlorien and on Aragorns coronation but nothing had prepared them for what they were seeing then.

Though still pale and weak the elf before them radiated royalty and power. Like Lady Galadriel he portrayed immortality in its full extent. Unlike usually his hair was braided at the back of his head in a style they had previously only seen on Lord Elrond. In his shock at seeing their friend in the place of the soon to be crowned king Pippin had nearly dropped the pillow with the crown but at the last moment he remembered that such behaviour would be inexcusable for a knight of Gondor and he straightened himself though his eyes remained wide with wonder.

* * *

Freed from his, in his weakened state to heavy sword and cloak Legolas stepped forward and out of the half circle of his guards till he stood immediately before the four hobbits. Offering them a somewhat shaky smile he knelt gracefully down before them. He was barely able to listen to the words first Elrond and then Mithrandir spoke as he was still concentrating to remain upright. He knew that it still took a long time ere that night and day were finally over, ere he could rest again but he also knew that he had to remain strong though those following hours. Not just because his action would reflect on his whole race but also – and more importantly - because he had waited almost his entire life for this celebration. No-one, not a few misplaced words and feelings, no corrupted Istar and certainly not himself would destroy this coronation.

Only when the four hobbits stepped forwards, two on each side of him did he return to the present. For moments after they had stepped at his sides his eyes caught Aragorns and while it took him a moment to separate the image of Arathron from that of his son he felt the love he felt for both of them well up inside of him. Relief filled him as he felt that the man before him returned that love in its full extent.

He barely noticed as the crown was placed on his head or heard the cheers that rang through the crowed as he stood up as the High King of the Eldar. As soon as he had stood up the hobbits had walked back to the place they had stood before allowing Lady Galadriel, Lord Celeborn with their daughter Lady Althilwen between them as well as Lord Luimir and King Thranduil and Lord Elrond and Lady Arwen to step forward. From the middle of the half circle behind Legolas three figures separated. Two came to stand between Lady Arwen and Lord Elrond and one next to King Thranduil. Only when the three figures had reached the group did they kneel down as one, their heads slightly bowed to honour their king before they stood – once again – as one.

* * *

"As Lord and Lady of the Golden Woods of Lothlorien we stand with our youngest daughter before thee, High King Luin Nor. Our love, our honour, our strength, our wisdom, our children, our land, our people and ourselves we offer to thee and thy house."

Lord Celeborn spoke his head held high but his eyes were lowered in submission as were Lady Galadriels and Lady Althilwens.

"Thy love, thy honour, thy strength, thy wisdom, thy children, thy land, thy people and thyself I receive with gratitude. May thy faith not be placed falsely, Lord and Lady of the Golden Woods."

As soon as the High King had finished the rulers of Lothlorien took half a step back and allowed Lord Elrond to speak who, as well as his children, stood in the same poise his wife's family had stood.

"As Lord and Prince of Imladirs I stand with my children before thee, High King Luin Nor. Our love, our honour, our strength, our wisdom, our children, our land, our people and ourselves we offer thee any thy house"

Like before to Lord Celeborn the High King answered:

"Thy love, thy honour, thy strength, thy wisdom, thy children, thy land, thy people and thyself I receive with gratitude. May thy faith not be placed falsely, Lord and Prince of Imladris."

The next who stepped forward was Lord Luimir.

"In thy place my king do I stand before thee as Lord of the Avari. Thou hast the love, the honour, the strength, the wisdom, the children and the land of thy people as well as ourselves."

As solemnly as before High King Luin Nor answered his uncle:

"With gratitude I receive the renewed oath of my people. Be thanked mother brother."

Lastly King Thranduil stepped forward but different than those before him did he not lower his eyes as he stood before his son.

"As King of Eryn Lasgalen and thy father I stand before thee, High King Luin Nor, my son Prince Legolas. The love, the honour, the strength, the wisdom, the children, the land and my people as well as my own I offer thee, my king, my son."

For the first time since the ceremony had started did the High King lower his eyes for a mere moment before he answered his father:

"Thy love, thy honour, thy strength, thy wisdom, thy children, thy land and thy people and even more so thyself I accept with gratitude, my father, my king. May thy faith be not placed falsely, King of Eryn Lasgalen, father."

For a fleeting moment shock was visible on the face of the king of Eryn Lasgalen as his son, his High King acknowledged him as his king. Yes, as the king of that realm he stood above his son the prince Legolas but than Legolas was also High King Luin Nor, superior to himself. By acknowledging him as his king Legolas had basically refused any right to rule over Eryn Lasgalen as long as his father was alive. Till the day king Thranduil either died or sailed to the Undying Lands Legolas would remain while in the kingdom of his father a prince and would not be the High King.

Bowing his head lightly to his son King Thranduil stepped back allowing king Elessar and surprisingly king Eomer to step forward. Different than the Elven Rulers both mortal Kings kneeled down before the newly crowned immortal king.

Drawing a knife Aragorn slit the palm of his right hand while he spoke:

"Greatly wronged thou hast been by my ancestors deeds. I offer thee and thy house the love, wisdom and alliance of my land, my people, myself and my house, not forced but in gratitude and friendship to thee and thy people."

As soon as Aragorn had ended his word Legolas also drew a knife from beneath his robe and slid his own right palm. The blood that ran from the wound was still mostly silver but the amount of red within it had greatly increased since the last time Aragorn had seen his friend blood.

"The love, wisdom and alliance of thy people, thyself and thy house I receive with gratitude, king Elessar Telcontar. I offer you the same as thou hast offered me, my friend, my brother. May our houses and people be forever connected not only in blood but also in friendship, love and alliance."

As Legolas reached with his own bleeding hand out to grasp Aragorns he added so quietly that only Aragorn was able to hear him:

"And may you always be my friend, my brother and even my son, Aragorn, son of Arathron."

A smile and a faint nod were the answer Aragorn gave his friend to those words before he withdrew his hand.

Like Aragorn before him Eomer drew a knife over the palm of his hand while addressing Legolas:

"My kingdom, my house and myself are greatly indebted to thee and thy people, king Luin Nor. In the hour of our greates need thou stood besides us. The blood of thy people and thyself has been spilled on our soil.

In gratitude I offer thee, thy people and thy house the love, the gratitude, the wisdom and the alliance of my people, myself and my house."

"The love, the wisdom and alliance of thy peolpe, thyself and thy house I receive with gratitude. Thy gratitude I do not deserve as we came to your aide as was our duty to our allies among which thy people, thyslf and thy house are counted, Eomer, king."

A their clasped hands withdrew Elladan, Elrohir and Luimir stepped forward, each holding a strip of silver fabric that they wrapped around the palm of each slid hand of the three kings.

* * *

With a smile playing around his lips Luin Nor stepped forward and raised his right hand to Mithrandir, Elrond and Galadriel came to him, each of them raising their own right hand. Glistening in the light of the fading stars and moon four rings caught the eyes of many but only a few were present who understood what they meant. Eyes wide open they joined their hands, uniting the four rings of power for the second time in history, for the second time within days. A light pulsed from their hands as first their hands and then their minds joined.

Pictures flashed through their minds, knowledge was shared and peace was given. Yet none of this was visible to those who were watching, all they were able to see were four of the most powerful beings in Arda, their hands joined and surrounded by a light that sprang fourth from their joined hands. A soft voice spoke, recognised by a few as the voice of the wise Istari, joined soon by the voice of the Lady of the Light Galadriel and the Elf Lord Elrond. Lastly and with a faint tremble in his voice the newly crowned High King joined his voice with his elders. Not long after all four had started their voices grew louder only to stop abruptly as the light pulsed once, bathing everything in a calming white light. Bowing their heads to each other the four stepped away from each other, three of them stepping back to the places they had stood before but Luin Nor walked slowly forward to the needle-like cliff in which the courtyard ended. The ilsa tirnoë followed him, twenty five pair walking silently behind him. As their king had reached the end of the cliff they turned and stood at attention.

* * *

For a faint moment Aragorn feared for his friend as the Elf walked directly to the edge. He knew that normally balance was no problem for an elf, that they were able to walk on almost anything no matter how narrow the path was. He did not doubt that an elf would even be able to walk on the sharp side of a sword if he really wanted to – but that applied only to healthy elves and Legolas, Luin Nor was certainly not healthy. One moment of weakness, one moment in which he lost the tight control he had over his body and he would fall to his death, even the speed of his guards would not be able to catch him in time to prevent such a fall.

The voice of his friend brought him out of his dark thought as he called out loudly to ask for a blessing for Arda and all those who had fought to prevent its destruction. As if to answer his request the sun rose from behind the Mountains of Shadow, bathing the High King into an otherworldly golden-red light. It seemed in that moment as if the elf had been set on fire, his whole being radiated with light and power.

A second call followed the first, this time it was a call of welcome and was directed at something none of them could yet see. Yet a faint sound from far away answered the call, telling them that someone was arriving.

Still bathed in the light of the rising sun Luin Nor turned around and walked slowly over to where the members of the fellowship were waiting. His eyes connected with each member of the Fellowship before they rested on Aragorns.

"Those who set forth to destroy the Ring of the Dark Lord will always find rest where my people dwell, may they be hobbit, dwarf, Istar or man!"

* * *

It was late afternoon when Aragorn found, for the first time since he had learned of Legolas wound and his breaking heart, a chance to talk alone to his friend. Tables had been set up all around the courtyard, laden with a feast that satisfied even the four hobbits. All through the city celebrations were held much like it had happened at his own coronation yet the flair of these celebrations were different.

He had found his friend sitting in a chair under the White tree, the chair next to him having just been vacated by Cirdan who had arrived a mere hour after the sun had risen. The ship in which he had sailed to Minas Thirith had been silver, decked in sails of Light green, the elvish colours of celebration and joy.

"May I join thee, High King?" Aragorn asked half jesting his friend as he walked up to him.

Amusement glittered in the depths of the blue eyes that were once again alight with life:

"When was the last time that you questioned someone in this way, King Elessar Telcontar?"

cocking his head to his side he continued to regard the human that was still standing before him before he continued:

"Isn't it my place to ask you, King of Gondor and Arnor if I may join you in your lands? But by all means sit down before your people regard me as their new king."

Silence reigned between them as both watched the celebrations around them till Aragorn turned away from the crowds and looked directly at his friend. He could see the tiredness, the exhaustion of the proud being, the unusual dark smudges under his eyes.

"I am fine, Aragorn."

While Aragorn had observed his friend the elf had turned to face the human, knowing, feeling what the other was thinking.

"Are you really?"

Aragorns question was filled with fear, with uncertainty that was not at all common for the Ranger, the King.

"Yes, I may still be tired, even slightly weak but I am fine. My body is healing, Luimir told me that my blood had already turned completely silver but as you have seen earlier it no longer has that colour. In a few weeks nothing but two scars will remain of my wounds."

A frown settled on Aragorns face as he heard those words,

"You say your body is healing – but it was not only your body that nearly took your life, it was not only Saruman that nearly killed you!"

Belying his weakened state Legolas hand shot out to grasp Aragorns as his friend almost whispered those words.

"Aragorn, do not blame yourself for what has happened. My heard has already healed more than my body! While I can not deny that it nearly took my life it did not."

The frown had not left Aragorns face as he contemplated those words and after a while he dared to ask the question that had bothered him form many days.

"I know that I was the cause for your breaking heart, I know that I almost killed you, what I do not know, what I do not fully understand..."

Frustrated at not being able to formulate his thoughts as he wished to Aragorn stopped only to hear his thought spoken from his friends mouth:

"You do not know what it was that broke my heart even though you know what words hurt me."

Aragorn could only nod as he heard his own question voiced to him. It seemed as if Legolas would not answer the question when he once again began to speak:

"Have you ever asked yourself why Elrond and myself and to an extend Elladan try to avoid large crowds?" at the nod of the edain he continued, "Elrond is flooded with visions in large crowds of mortals if he does not take precautions and Elladan has been developing the same gift, the same curse as his father but to a lesser degree. Elrohirs presence protects him from being at mercy of those vision as Elros once protected Elrond.

While I do not receive visions I have the gift, the curse of being able to feel the emotions of others. The more I know, the more I love someone the more I can feel what they are feeling."

The most apparent emotion that settled onto Aragorns face at this revelation was guilt and faintly he asked:

"So it were not only my words but also my feelings that broke your heart. You knew what I was feeling, what I was wishing for in that moment..."

Overcome with guilt the mortal king trailed off, all the while trying to suppress his current emotions.

"Yes and no. Yes, I knew while you spoke those words that you wished to fall that night – but even more then that feeling that wish from you did my own thoughts hurt me. I had failed you, I had failed Arathron's only child, I had failed my best friend, the man I thought of as my own son. I had allowed for the hopelessness to settle into your heart that you felt your only chance for peace was death. For that I can not forgive myself and even though I know that I am not the only one at fault I was the only one who would have been able to diffuse that feeling of loneliness."

"You did diffuse it: one of the reasons I wanted to die while I spoke to you was because I feared that we would not be enough, that we would all fall that night. I was the one who led you to Helms Deep, I was the one who had led you to your potential death. I was afraid that I might be the only one of us to survive, to be responsible of both your and Gimlis death. How could I have lived with myself if I had all but killed both of you myself?

Death seemed so much easier, so much more inviting than the prospect to have to life without you. You had been there for as long as you can remember, one of my first memories is of soft golden hair that tickled my hair while we were riding. It took me years to realise that it must have been a memory of the journey to Imladris after my father had been killed.

These last few weeks have been the most terrible in my life, not only was I loosing you but I also knew that I was the reason you were dying – and now I know that I will inflict the same pain you felt on Arwen."

A tear trickled down Aragorns face as he spoke and Legolas longed for nothing more that to take his friends into his arms but he could not do that surrounded by all those people.

"Did you not hear what I said to you and the rest of the Fellowship? Have you forgotten what blessing the Valar gave me? Even though Galadriel sang of it?"

A smile flickered over his face and an amused mischievous glint settled in his eyes as he saw the questioning gaze of his friend:

"I have the power to grant passage to the Undying Lands, my friend. While Arwen will loose the blessing of our people the moment she accepts your hand in marriage and your bond is sealed and she already has made her choice to live a mortal life, my blessing remains.

Every member of the Fellowship as well as their spouses are granted a safe passage and a place in the Undying Lands. As long as you remain on Arda both you and Arwen are mortal but the rest of your days you may spend in Valinor if you chose to do so."

As understanding dawned him Aragorns face lit up with joy and hope and his relieved laughter rang through the air.

"Thank you my friend, I can not tell you how grateful I am for your blessing! Does Arwen know that she will not be separated from her family because she chose me? Does she know that she will be able to see them again even when they have sailed West?"

In confirmation Legolas bowed his head before the smile on his face lessened and he gazed solemnly to his friend:

"Can you forgive me that I did not tell you of my heritage? That I did not tell you who, what I am and who I was to become?"

Contemplating Aragorn watched his friends regretful faces and knew that, even though he had been hurt by the knowledge that his friend had not been able to confine in him, he had no right to be angry with him.

"There is nothing to forgive. I may have been hurt by the knowledge that you did not tell me who you are or of your betrothed by I know that you did not keep silent to hurt me.

But please tell me why you kept silent."

For moments Legolas closed his eyes as he saw pictures of the past replay itself in his mind. As he reopened them his eyes were glazed with grief and pain.

"I have known what I was to become since a week after my tenth Begettingday. As a child I though of my future as an adventure, a fascinating future filled with glory and long journeys through Middle Earth.

I was reckless as a child, reckless and proud – even more so than I am at this day. What I wanted to do I did, my father, my uncle and even my cousin can tell you numerous tales of those years, centuries even. It was only after Celebrimbors death that I calmed down."

His eyes were no longer directed to Aragorn but had found Lady Galadriel in the shadow of one of the other trees.

"He was like a father to me and I was the son he had always wanted to have. Each of my weapons, my jewellery were made by him. I know that you have often wondered why I do not carry a sword, the answer is quite simple: Celebrimbor knew who I was to become and he knew that the Avari preferred fighting knives to swords. He never forged me a normal sword only my double blade – and I do not carry a weapon that was not forged by him.

We were bound, he and I, in a way never before or since then encountered on Arda. Both of us had made an oath to Aule, both of us were bound by the father of the dwarves – and therefor to each other.

I saw him die, I felt his pain, his blood as it left his body, I thought his last thoughts.

For more then a year after his death I did not speak to anyone, I was grieving for a father who had not sired me but loved me as if he had. Althilwen and Gil-Galad were the once that brought me back from my grief. Years I waited for the right time to propose to the elleth I loved – our wedding was set to take place shortly before the first war against Sauron but all, Althilwen and myself included decided that it would be better to postpone the ceremony till after the battle that we felt all fast approaching.

Gil-Galad and my grandfather were slain in that battle as were so many others. Sauron could have been destroyed that day as you know, the evil could have ended – but Isildur kept the Ring. Even though we were grieving I would have been crowned and we would have married if it had not been for the Ring.

Sauron knew of the Legend, Sauron knew me and had I taken Althilwens hand in marriage as long as the Ring, as long as Sauron was still alive I would have condemned my race, the whole of Arda even to his darkness. To protect those I loved I decided to keep my identity silent from all those who did not already know of it. It was for that reason Isildur was forced to give his oath that his house would be bound to my own, to protect my family for I knew that I would not be able to witness all of them fall one after the other like I had seen Celebrimbor fall.

Not even two years after the battle of Dargorlad my mother and sister were slaughtered and my father nearly faded from grief. Myself was all that kept my father on these shores, within two years he had lost his parents, his wife and his daughter. He had been forced to pick up a crown he had not wanted and become a king he had never wanted to be.

For a few years we had peace in Eryn Galen till first Sauron and then later one of the Nine claimed Dol Goldur. Did you knew that I grew up close to Dol Goldur, that once my home was one of the greenest and friendliest places in Arda?

My father never spoke of my postponed wedding, of his wish for grandchildren till the day I brought your father, your grandparents and some of their people to his halls. I saw in his eyes how much he longed to have once again a child running through his halls, a child for which he was not the king but simply a grandfather.

Over the next years I watched your father grow, watched as he fell in love and married, watched as you were born. As I held you in my arms I knew that you were more that an other heir of Isildur, I knew that you were just, if not more special than your father. Both of you, both your father and yourself have Isildur's eyes, the eyes of Tar Minyatur. Your sons will also carry those eyes as will all children of Elladan and Elrohir. Glorfindel once told me that they are the eyes of Tuor and all his sons will carry them as a sign of their heritage.

When your father died in my arms I swore him that I would protect you but I swore myself that I would not get close to you. For four years after I had brought you and your mother to Imladris I stayed away from the valley, fearing to see you again. I was right in my fear, I could not help but love you when I saw you again, a curious child, filled with awe, mischief and a love for adventure."

Regretful eyes settled once again on Aragorn who was listening with rapt attention. In these last few weeks he had learned more about the past of his friend then ever before.

"You asked me why I have not told you who before who, what I was, what I am, I ask you when I should have told you? When you were still a child, carefree and full of hope? Should I have told you when we met again when your were grief-filled because of your banishment from the only home you had known, when you feared to have lost the love of your foster father because you loved his daughter? Should I have spoken of my own destiny when you were fighting against yours?

Perhaps I should have, perhaps it would have been easier for you to know that you were not the only one who was responsible for the fate of his race. I do not know, I choose to stay silent, hoping, fearing that it would not be in your lifetime that I would take up my crown.

I had sworn that I would only be crowned after a certain time had passed after the One Ring was destroyed and even though I saw the signs I hoped that you would not have to face that war, I hoped that you would not have to be forced to become king. When you told me that Elrond had promised you Arwens hand when you became king I knew that it would be during your lifetime that the Ring would be destroyed. Yet at that time I no longer dared to tell you. Not because I did not trust you but because we knew that a traitor was among us. We did not know who or where but we knew that nowhere it was save to speak of something as the Legend of my people.

Few outside my race knew who I was, all had sworn on their life and the life of their loved-ones to protect my identity as you have undoubtedly learned from your brothers. My guards I had chosen from my closest friends and family, knowing that every single one would die before harm would come to my family.

Not once did we suspect that Saruman was the traitor and not once did we fathom that his treachery would go as far as recreating Morgoths Tears. No greater crime could be committed against my race than creating and using that poison – and in using it against the Elven Legend has brought him the hate of my whole race. I know that my father has send out some of his best guards to hunt him down, even if I wanted I can not protect Saruman from his certain death. And his death will be so painful that he will wish that he had never followed the Valars call to aid arda. No-one can protect him any longer, had he used the poison against anyone else the victim could have, if he or she had survived, overruled any, even my own order to kill the traitor – but in trying to turn me he has turned against the Valar and no-one except the Valar or Eru himself could now safe him.

You have not seen us furious, you have not seen my kind consumed by hate. When Celebrian had been tortured Elladan and Elrohir lost control over their hate, for years they hunted down bands of Orcs, slaughtering them – till you came into their life. You were not only the hope of men, you were also the hope of your twin brothers, Arwen and Elrond. All of Imladris thanked the Valar for you for you brought the twins back from the pain that had consumed them at their mothers fate."

Aragorn was not sure how he should respond to this revelation, yes, Legolas was right, there never had been a time when he could have been told of his friends heritage. First he had been to young and later on he had been to occupied with his own destiny and Arwen to want to hear something like that. He may have wished to have learned of it earlier but it was not as if Legolas had lied to him about his position he had just chosen not to tell him about it.

"There is nothing for me to forgive you," seeing that the elf was about to protest he held up his hand in order to stop him, "no, let me speak. I don't say that I am happy to not have known but I know in my heart that I would have also kept silent. In fact I remember quite clearly that it took me more then a year to tell you of my own heritage - and even though you already knew it it took me that long to confine in you."

Once again both fell silent, following their own thoughts and listening and watching the celebration around them. After a while Aragorn could no longer stop himself and asked the question that had followed him since he had learned that his friend was the High King.

"Why Luin Nor?"

For a moment Legolas looked at his friend in shock before his eyes began to sparkle and he laughed out loud drawing the glances of their friends and family to them.

"Gil-Galad gave me that name after we had first met. At that time he did not know who I was, he even thought that I was an eleth – something that insulted me greatly. I was twelve when we first met, he and his company had come to Eryn Galen to meet me, Gil-Galads heir. When they had entered the forest they had they had rested for a few hours and as the curious elfling that I was I had followed the trees when they had told me that strangers were in the forest.

For a long time they did not notice me, only when I got closer to the camp did they see the small child that was wandering around. Leaning at one of the trees I had seen one of the most beautiful bows, the only weapon I was already able to wield as I had... acquired one more than a year earlier from my Grandfathers armoury when I had been bored. It was when I had picked up the bow that Gil-Galad called out to me, telling me that the bow was much to heavy and tall for such a delicate eleth as myself. I am sure that he had mend it as a compliment, he even told me so years later, but at that time I was furious at being called an eleth as I was quite self-conscious about looking so feminine, more so than others my age. So I notched an arrow to show him that I _was_ strong enough – only to find that I was indeed not. All I could do was redirect the course of the arrow when I had to let it loose, piercing Gil-Galads shoulder instead of his heart. Proud as I was I refused to acknowledge that it had been a mistake I told him that it was his own fault because he was so arrogant and that next time I _would_ pierce his heart. After that I all but threw the bow down and took off into the trees who prevented the others from following me.

When Gil-Galad came two days later to the palace he acquired who the small girl with the fiery blue eyes had been – and found out that no-one knew me or off me. Only when they came to the archery grounds to meet the grandson of the king they realised their mistake. It was then that Gil-Galad called me the little Luin Nor. The name stuck but it took more then a century for Gil-Galad and me to become friends, he had wounded my pride and I both his body and his pride. The bow in my study at my fathers palace is the same bow I used that day to wound Gil-Galad."

A smile lingered on Legolas face as he wondered if it was right to still feel proud that the first time he had shot at something living – and even more hit it - was when he had shot the last High King.

Aragorn had to laugh at the proud bemused smile on his friends face:

"You shot Gil-Galad? I remember that Elladan and Elrohir told me when I was a child that I, if I were to ever shoot a King, would become a girl. Somehow I suspect that they used your tale to frighten me."

"Yes, that does sound like your brothers! And I am not surprised that they told you something like that – after all Elrond was present that day and still teases me with it as do my father and uncle."

At this the king of Gondor allowed his eyes to roam the body of his friend, his lips curled into a teasing smile, suggesting that he too would tease his friend in the future.

"Where will your court be? All the capitols of old are destroyed and I know that you would not use one of the three realms."

He hoped that his friend would stay close to him but he doubted it.

"The Grey Heaves; as we are speaking they are rebuilt and in a year a fourth Elven realm will be known. I long to much for the sea to be able to live far from it.

You will always be welcome there and I am sure that the hobbits will be happy to house a king – and wouldn't it be nice to disrupt the dealings in Bree for a short while? Is there any way that I can convince you to accompany me to my home when the time comes, presenting to the world the King of Gondor and Anor, Chieftain of the Dunadain Eleassar Telcontar and High King of the Elves Luin Nor?"

Laughter filled once again the air as the king Eleassar and Luin Nor imagined the faces of the mistrustful people of Bree when the dark Ranger was revealed to be king and was accompanied by not only his own company but also by the High King of Elves and his people.

* * *

Years after the memorable coronation of the High King of the Elves a small troop arrived from Gondor, leading its King and queen on their last journey. For a few weeks the halted in the rebuilt city of the Grey Heavens before the were born by a ship to the Undying Lands, secure in the knowledge that they would see their friends again in the eternity they had before them.

**_-THE END-_**

* * *

Before I close this story I find myself in the need to explain a few things.

First of all I doubt that I will write an alternative end – even though I had planned one – as I feel that it would destroy the one you have just read. I know that some of you hope for Legolas to die, as I have to admit I myself planned when I started this story. Yet as you can see, the more I wrote the less I found myself able to just kill Legolas. I had planned for him to simply sleep, already to far gone to hear Aragorns apology and pleading. A ceremony would have still taken place but instead of a coronation it would have been a memorial for the High Prince. Cirdan's ship would have been decked with black sails instead of green and at the end of the day the ship would have sailed out of Minas Tiriths port, bearing the corps of Legolas.

Now for Aragorn. I was astounded how much dislike he was subjected too during my story. That had not been my intention. He had not planned to nearly kill his best friend, he just didn't know better! He was misinformed and proud, he did not know how easy it was exactly to break the heart of an elf (no-one spoke about it, not even to him) and he had no idea that Legolas was not only able to hear his words but also feel his feelings. The words alone would have only hurt, only the combination of words and feelings was what broke the elf's heart.

The reason why Aragorn did not apologise immediately was for one that, even though he knew that his words were the cause he did not know what about those words and second because he was simply to proud to apologise in the presence of others. At no time was it because he was just to self-centred!

Some of you found that I described to many different views, to my defence I have to say that this was not an action story but one of the slow, contemplative ones. This story was about the different reactions to the same occasion at different times. For example Thranduil wishes at one point for Legolas to live but decides at an other that it would be more merciful for him to die. Between these two different views lie only a few days. Also this story has a lot of background information – both from Tolkien and from my own little LotR universe.

What else is to say? One of you remarked that I often described Legolas as frail – I did so when I described him as a child and when he was near death. If you have ever seen someone close to death you will see that the person will loo frail – no matter their normal stature. My description of him as a child was mostly to make Gil-Galads mistake more plausible as well as the wonder that such a child would become one of the most important elves. I couldn't make a stable boy out of Legolas as he is Thranduils son but I could make a frail seemingly weak child out of him.

Lastly I want to recomment one of the best stories I have ever read: **"Last Stand**" by **Mirrordance** ( you can find it in my favourite list). It was this story that inspired me to write Cale au Aratar but to my shame I have to admit that it does not even come close to "**Last Stand", **so if you have time read it.

As for my next story I have gotten one vote each for a crossover and for a Sauron's son so I have to decide on my own. Eventually I will write both but you have to waite till I finish one of my other stories.

So thank you for reading this story – this chapter is the longest I have ever written - , review and read my other stories 


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